Authors: Beth Michele
Rex
Rex
Copyright @ 2014 by Beth Michele
Cover Design by Sommer Stein, Perfect Pear Creative
Editing by Lea Burn
Interior Design by Angela McLaurin,
Fictional Formats
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing by Beth Michele. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. 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. Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support is appreciated.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.
All rights reserved.
CHAPTER FOUR—GOTTA HAVE FRIENDS
CHAPTER FIVE—WHAT’S YOUR STORY?
CHAPTER EIGHT—ISN’T IT IRONIC?
CHAPTER NINE—I KNEW YOU WERE TROUBLE
CHAPTER TEN—HOT AND SERIOUSLY TWISTED
CHAPTER ELEVEN—THE SWEETEST THING
CHAPTER TWELVE—DEATH AND DESTRUCTION
CHAPTER FIFTEEN—WHAT LIES BENEATH
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN—FORCED SENTIMENT
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN—A BRIGHT IDEA
CHAPTER NINETEEN—ASSHOLE OF THE YEAR
CHAPTER TWENTY—BROKEN PROMISES
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO—A DISTANT MEMORY
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE—TONGUE-TIED
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR—THE FAN CLUB
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE—CRAZY TALK
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX—COMPLETELY INCORRIGIBLE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN—A CRIPPLING FEAR
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT—ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION?
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE—I’M LATE, I’M LATE
CHAPTER THIRTY—ADRENALINE RUSH
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE—SOMEONE ELSE’S LIFE
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE—STEPPING INTO A DREAM
To Rex, for demanding that your story be told. I hope I did it justice.
“Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination, full of hope.”
—Maya Angelou
Hunter dragged me through the dark wooden doors—doors no seventeen-year-old should ever have to walk through—seeing things a seventeen-year-old should never have to see.
Yet there we were.
And it was all my fault.
Actually, I take that back. The woman that sat there, with the perfect hair, black pants and black jacket, as fake tears fell from her eyes? The one who didn’t deserve to be called Mother?
Yeah, it was her fucking fault, too.
The smell of something awful distracted me. I never realized death had a smell. But it did, and I’d never forget it as long as I lived. I wasn’t even sure how to explain it. Thick, stale air mixed with nothingness? That didn’t begin to describe the scent that filled my lungs, constricting my airways and making me want to hold my breath and vomit at the same time. My knees were like lead, yet still I felt like I might collapse. Hunter grabbed onto my elbow tighter as we entered together.
“I don’t fucking want to be here.”
He peered down at me with a scowl and in a hushed whisper, said, “Watch your mouth, Rex.”
His lips looked weird, like two straight lines. His eyes were glossy and sad, and even though anger burned a hole through my outsides, my insides felt the same.
We traipsed by rows of people, and I watched them, pity falling from their eyes onto our faces, but that was the last thing I deserved. No. I deserved to take the poison that would lead to a slow death. Because that’s what it would be like from there on out. Living with it—the guilt that would tear apart my insides, shredding me until there was nothing left.
And still, that wouldn’t be enough.
We walked by her, that woman who called herself my mother, and she reached out for me. A seething hatred that had been building for quite some time nearly exploded. But it wasn’t the time or the place. As I felt her vile hand on my arm, I yanked out of her grasp, holding myself back from spitting on her, because that wouldn’t be
appropriate
.
Thankfully, Hunter pulled me toward the front of the room, but I froze when I saw the small casket. I couldn’t do it.
“Don’t make me go up there, Hunter. Fuck. I can’t.”
When my feet came to a halt, Hunter turned and crouched down on the rug in front of me like I was a small child, looking up into my eyes. “He’d want to know you’re here, want to see you one last time.”
I nodded because that was all I had left, the tough kid I knew myself to be was crumbling. So I let Hunter go first, and my hands began to shake when I heard his quiet sobs as he softly spoke to Tyler. I wanted to tell him it was too late. But I didn’t want to spoil his moment.
He stepped to the side, and I inhaled a deep breath before I took the three paces up to Tyler. In that moment, I was very thankful the casket was closed. I couldn’t have looked at someone who no longer resembled my brother.
I placed my trembling palm flat on the shiny wood, closing my eyes and dragging in a deep breath. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered to Tyler. “I’ll never forgive myself. You know how special you were to me.” A tear dripped from my eye. “I love you, buddy. I hope wherever you’re going they have lots of that mint chocolate chip ice cream that you like, and baseball games so you can show them how you play a mean first base. I know there will be lots of music so you’ll be able to play your guitar.” My voice cracked. “I’ll look for you when I chase the moon.”
There was nothing more to say. I couldn’t form any more words anyway. Hands were wrapping around my throat and the sensation of being choked forced me to let out a pained howl. It wasn’t pretty. It was repulsive and loud, attracting glances from everyone in the room.
I turned around and bolted for the door. Hunter followed, catching up to me and clutching my wrist, making me stumble back.
“Where are you going?” he asked, that wrinkle he always got when he was confused came out on his forehead.
“I want to go chase the moon,” I said, huffing out heavy breaths.
“It’s daytime, Rex.”
I shrugged. It didn’t matter. I’d never catch it anyway.
The door to the shop jingles as I’m cleaning up my station in the back, organizing the inks and disposing of needles. I’m getting ready to get the hell out of here. I’ve been here since the crack of dawn, and I’m bone tired.
Zeek pokes his head in, nodding toward the door. “It looks like we’ve got a walk-in and I’ve gotta zip. Going to see my babe.”
“Come the fuck on, Zeek.” I grit my teeth, exhaustion bringing out the monster in me. “I’m fucking tired.”