Killing Me Softly(A Broken Souls Series)

“You’re a tease!”

“Who me?”

“Yes, you!” He looks down at me and moments turn to hours as I wait for his mouth to find mine. His eyes go from playful to serious. His lips are soft on mine as he parts my lips with his tongue. His mouth trails kisses down my neck where he lightly bites the base of my neck. He trails back to my lips and I groan against his mouth.

“I love you,” I whisper to him.

“I love you too.”

His hand goes to the back of my head and he gently tugs my head backwards, baring my throat to him. He kisses my throat and his finger trails down my neck until he comes to the top of my shirt. I shiver as his finger follows the outline of shirt. Without thinking, I reach down and pull my shirt over my head.

“Holl, what are you doing?”

“Don’t worry, you’re not getting pass this base. Is it second base? Either way, I’m not showing you anything my bikini wouldn’t show.”

“God! I LOVE SECOND BASE!” He shouts out and hugs me to him.

***



Epilogue

“Hello, I’m calling for Terri, or someone who went by the name Terri when she lived in Oklahoma.”

“Holland?” The voice says.

“Yes, my name is Holland. Who are you?”

“I’m Seth, hold on let me get her for you.” His voice is deep as he calls out. “Lisa, Holland’s on the phone!”

Lisa? Her name is Lisa? That could be another alias for all I know. Who’s Seth? Some guy she’s shacking up with I’m sure.

The phone sounds like it tumbles to the ground. “Holly?”

“This is Holland, is this my mother?”

“Oh Holly, I’m so glad you called. I saw in the obituaries that your dad died, so I looked it up and read about the accident. How are you?”

How am I? Seriously? “How am I? Well, let’s start with I’m wonderful. My mentally ill father tried to murder me and in the process he committed suicide. I’ve been caring for his crazy ass since I was thirteen years old. I was ALONE. No one was there to help me when things got bad. Oh things got bad. The times he held me by the throat against the wall before school were some of my favorite father daughter events. I had a sucky ass life because of you. Before you tell me your sob story about your ex-husband, I already know about it. Funny isn’t it, that I don’t have any sympathy for you. Now that I’ve said all that, what do you want? You’ve left me several messages, so state your peace so I can get ready for work.”

“Oh baby, I’m sorry I haven’t been there…”

“No! Just NO! You can’t tell me how you’re sorry. Why did you call?” I shout.

Tate walks in the room and makes a confused face at me and asks who I’m on the phone with.

“My mom,” I mouthed.

“Oh.” He says and turns down the hall to his bedroom.

“I’m coming to Oklahoma next month and I want to see you. The attorney’s office got in touch with me about the estate. I know I don’t deserve it, but honey, I really want to see you.” Her voice is steady as she talks, like she’s rehearsed it a thousand times.

“Of course, you have your hand out. Whatever, I’ll meet with you for one reason, and one reason only, to get answers. If you plan on meeting me, you better be prepared for my questions. If you’re not, don’t bother. Who’s Seth?” I’m agitated because I’m letting her get to me.

“Seth is my brother. I’ll be open to any questions you have. I’ll call you with the date. I miss you baby.”

I want nothing more than to throw my phone across the room, but a damn replacement phone is too expensive. Don’t call me baby! “Whatever, let me know closer to the date. I have to go.” Without giving her a chance to reply, I hang up. My hands are trembling from anger. I should have known better than call her before having company. I look up and see Tate standing in the doorway.

“Is it safe to enter? I’m happy to offer a hug.” His arms spread wide and I run to him and squeeze my head to his chest. The sound of his heart is music to my ears, and the perfect melody to calm me down.

“I lied about going to work. There’s this ridiculous part of me that feels guilty for lying. Isn’t that stupid? I just wanted the conversation to be quick.”

“You’re allowed to use a white lie if it doesn’t hurt anyone. They lied to you for years, you have nothing to feel guilty about.” Tate take his finger and lifts my chin off his chest, until I’m looking up at him. “Holland, everything you’re going through will be something of the past before you know it. Don’t give in to self-doubt. I’m in awe of you, and happy that you’re mine.”

I lace my fingers behind his neck and pull him down until we’re nose to nose. “Thank you for being sane.”

“Any time,” he whispers.

***

It has been two days since I made the call. Tate and I went out and bought mountain bikes to ride through some trails we found by our neighborhood. Water will go in the pool tonight, and if all goes according to plan, we’ll be swimming by the weekend. I can’t believe I live in such a nice house, with a great guy, and money in the bank. The pessimist in me keeps telling me not to get too comfortable. My phone buzzes on the night stand.

HEY BEAUTIFUL. I’M SITTING HERE – ACROSS THE HOUSE – PINING. 12:03 pm

THAT’S SO FAR AWAY! I’M OVER HERE PINING FOR YOU. 12:04 pm

NO FAIR, I PINED FIRST. 12:04 pm

HOW ABOUT MEETING IN THE LIVING ROOM AND WE CAN PINE TOGETHER. 12:05 pm

I LIKE THE WAY YOU THINK. LOVE YOU. 12:06 pm

SEE YOU IN A SECOND. TATE – I LOVE YOU TOO 12:07 pm.

***

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

Mental illness is an epidemic throughout the world. Not only does it change the person who is diagnosed with it, but the people around them. Many families live in shame and hide the truth from everyone. Mental illness is as real as cancer. The drugs mentioned in this book are fictional.

www.hopeline.com

1-800-442-HOPE (4673)

DEPRESSION AND BIPOLAR SUPPORT ALLIANCE

1-800-826-3632

http://www.dbsalliance.org/

The grief that Holland felt after the death of her friend Andy is pulled out of my own experiences with death. I’ve lost so many people in my life (both parents, my son, and two brothers), and for each one I’ve grieved differently. If you have lost someone and you’re in that grieving place now, trust me when I say there is light and happiness again.



From The Wreckage

by

Michele G Miller



One

"Is this on?"

Jules' eyes flick to the small television across the room as she takes her place in the faded velvet wingback chair. Her own face stares back at her from the screen, indicating the camera is indeed working. Out of habit, her hands run over her strawberry blonde hair. She twirls a curl around her finger and brushes her long bangs to the side. Satisfied with her appearance, she takes a deep breath.

"Okay, Hi," she says softly; her hand lifting in a small wave. "I'm Jules Blacklin from Tyler, Texas. Oh, crap. No, I shouldn't wave,” she tells herself.

Shimmying backward, she tries to find a comfortable sitting position; her sundress catching against the velvet nap of the seat cushion. With a low sigh, she moves to run her hand between her skirt and the chair. Freeing the fabric, Jules adjusts the dress again and crosses her legs daintily, while stealing another glance at the television screen to check her appearance.