Epilogue
Standing under the giant tree by the creek, I watched Nikki walking toward me, a vision in white as the sounds of the Wedding March, played on a cello, filled the summer air, mixing with the babbling sound of the water. My heart was overwhelmed, overflowing, and my throat was choked with emotion as I took her hand. I had no idea how I’d even speak my vows. This was my dream. This was the best dream. This was the dream I had chased—and now I had it.
The End
Author’s Note:
First off, I’d like to do another little dedication of this story. This book is for Chase—real Chase that is. It was the story he wanted, taken to the place he wanted it to go. I know Chase has always “loved” Nikki, and when we sat down to talk about this book, all the pieces for it started falling together. I loved his vision, his writing, and his ideas. He totally blew me away with the first chapter he sent me. The emotion was strong and it made me cry. I sent it immediately to my best friend, author Belinda Boring, and said, “LOOK at this!” She was as shocked as I was. Our boy, Chase—he could write!
As shared in previous author notes, the story of Chase Walker contains a whole lot of “real” in it. It was definitely a story that helped work through past grief, hurt, and disappointment. While it was always a “real” story, the “miracle” part inside of me continued to niggle at me. “What if?”
When I lost my boyfriend, Mike, I used to lie in bed at night and sob, praying it was a dream. I wished I had a magic wand to wave away the ugly truth and bring peace and happiness back again.
I wished the same when my grandma died. I wished the same when my sister died. I wished the same when my father-in-law died, and my mother, and my grandpa, and my uncles, my aunts, and cousins . . . who’ve all passed away too.
Our family has witnessed countless deaths in the last few years—heartbreaking devastation that no family should ever have to endure. Yet we do. And so do all the other families in the world experiencing the same life.
But every now and then you hear about the miracle. That one rare story that makes all the press and the newspapers because it’s just so awe-inspiring. I saw those stories and it triggered that niggling thought in me.
What if just once, I was in control of that magic wand and could give it all back?
Chase Walker had lessons to learn. Big ones—heavy ones that would be instrumental to the way he lived the rest of his life. Everything he suffered through was important, a teaching tool that helped to build his character. But, no matter the situation, no matter how hard, there was one very important thing that held it all together—Chase never gave up.
That is my message to everyone reading this book. No matter how hard life is, or how badly it is hurting—never, ever, give up! You don’t know what good things are waiting for you around the corner. If you give up now, you may miss out on the greatest chance of all. Chase your dreams, no matter how far out of reach they seem. Don’t stop until you catch them—just like Chase did.
With love,
Lacey
About the Authors:
Author Lacey Weatherford
Lacey Weatherford is the USA Today bestselling author of many Young Adult and New Adult books such as the Of Witches and Warlocks series, Crush series, Chase Walker series, and the Fringe Novels. She has always loved books and wanted to become a writer since reading her first Nancy Drew novel at the age of eight.
Lacey resides in the beautiful White Mountains of Arizona. She lives with her wonderful husband, children, and their family pets. When she’s not out supporting one of her kids at their sporting/music events, she spends her time reading, writing, blogging, and socializing with her readers on her social media accounts.
Visit Lacey’s Official Website:
http://www.laceyweatherfordbooks.com
Follow on Twitter:
LMWeatherford
Or Facebook:
Lacey Weatherford – Author
Author Chase Walden
Chase Walden is well known in his home state of Arizona for his incredible athletic abilities in all sports, but he especially excels in football and basketball.
Chased Dreams is his first authored book, after initially getting his start in the book world as the cover model for the Chase Walker series. While he doesn’t plan on doing anymore cover modeling, he is open to try writing again. He also enjoys going to book events and meeting readers.
Other Books by Lacey Weatherford:
Of Witches and Warlocks series
The Trouble with Spells
The Demon Kiss
Blood of the White Witch
The Dark Rising
Possession of Souls
Book of Shadows series
Fire & Ice
Chasing Nikki series
Chasing Nikki
Finding Chase
Chased Dreams (Available May 25, 2014)
The Crush Series
Crush
Smitten
Love
The Fringe Novels
Tell Me Why
Stix & Stones (Coming April 5, 2014)
Novellas
Faery Kissed
Over the River and Through the Woods
Multi-author Anthology
A Midsummer Night’s Fling
Also coming from Lacey Weatherford:
Allure (July 6, 2014)
Fall For Me (Coming Aug. 24, 2014)
Smolder (Coming Oct. 12, 2014)
Let It Snow (Dec. 7, 2014)
31 Flavors (Feb. 8, 2014)
Stix & Stones (April 5, 2014)
Keep reading for a peek in book one of The Fringe Novels:
Tell Me Why
Prologue
Anna-
“No!” The scream tore from my lips as I raced into the bathroom, slipping and falling into the puddle of bloody water slowly spreading across the tiled floor. Crawling to my hands and knees, I scrambled to the edge of the tub, not caring my clothes were soaking up the offensive fluid. “Help! Somebody help me!” The panicked cry left my throat feeling shredded, as I plunged my hands into the red water seeping over the porcelain edge, dragging Jessi’s face back to the surface.
Her long blonde hair clumped limply around my hands and I shook her violently. “Jessi!” A long painful howl escaped me. “Oh, God! Please don’t let her be dead!” My whole body trembled as I tried to pull her from the tub; but she was too heavy. “Somebody help me!” I screamed again, my shriek echoing off the walls. I stood there, alone and in shock, holding her slack body above the waterline.
“What’s going on?” Danica's panicked voice drifted from the hallway along with the sound of running feet.
“Call an ambulance!” I yelled.
“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!” Danica's terrified voice reverberated shrilly through my head as she entered the room behind me. “Caleb! We need you!”
Danica's hands dipped into the water, grabbing Jessi by her jeans, and the two of us struggled to drag her out.
“No, Jessi! No!” Danica wailed.
Strong arms scooped Jessi up, relieving us of the burden and I glanced over to see Caleb’s stricken face as he lifted her, moving her onto the floor.
“Do something!” Danica hollered, her hands sliding to her cheeks in horror.
“Mom, go call 911!” Caleb commanded the hysterical Danica, and she rushed from the room.
My fingers drifted to Jessi’s neck, automatically seeking a pulse. “I can’t find anything!” I said, my voice shaking.
Caleb shook his head. “We’re too late.” Tears slipped over the rims of his eyes. In all the years I’d known him, I’d never seen him cry. Ever. This was bad.
“No! We can’t give up!” I argued, placing my hands on Jessi’s chest. Pressing down, I began counting as I started CPR. She was my best friend in the whole world! I couldn’t lose her!
“Anna . . . ,” Caleb’s voice barely registered, as I focused in on Jessi’s mascara streaked face, watching for any sign of life. ??
?Annalisa!” He shouted my full name, breaking through my cloudy mind. I glanced at him briefly, not stopping. “Look at her! She’s lost too much blood. Who knows how long she’s been in here.”
“She called me an hour ago!” I replied in a sob, continuing to work. Water bubbled through her blue lips as I pushed. Caleb helped me roll her to the side, letting it drain, and I checked again for a pulse. Nothing.
Gently laying her back down, I leaned over her once more.
“Anna,” Caleb said flatly.
“What?” I snapped, knowing he was trying to tell me something I didn’t want to hear. I was determined to do whatever I could.
“The wounds in her wrists are deep. There’s no blood coming from them. I think she’s bled out.”
Glancing at the damaged flesh, I saw he was right, but I couldn’t make myself stop.
“I can’t lose her, Caleb,” I replied, hearing the defeat in my own voice, but still continuing the compressions.
He didn’t fight me, instead joining me, breathing into her mouth at the appropriate intervals. Danica reappeared, the phone pressed to her ear. Shakily, she shouted instructions from the dispatcher. Ages passed before I heard the wail of sirens, followed by a bustle of people entering the small bathroom, carrying a bunch of gear.
Strong arms wrapped around me, dragging me away from my friend and into the hallway. “Let them do their job,” Caleb’s voice whispered in my ear. Even though he was trembling, he didn’t let go of me and, for that, I was grateful. I wasn’t sure if I could stand on my own.
Unable to see much through the crowd of bodies, I waited for someone to tell us something. It wasn’t long before a man slipped from the room, casting a sympathetic glance in our direction. Walking several steps down the hall, he disappeared around the corner. Clearly trying to keep us from overhearing, his words stabbed me as he spoke softly into his radio. “Dispatch? We need the coroner.”
Danica wailed and sank to the floor.
“Go to her,” I said, pushing Caleb in her direction. He released me and I dropped to my knees, unable to swallow past the huge knot in my throat. A choking sob escaped me as I watched Caleb gather his stepmom into his embrace, the two of them clutching each other desperately.
Reality punched me straight in the stomach. My best friend was dead. Jessi had committed suicide and I had no idea why. What had happened? What had I missed? I thought I knew everything about her! This couldn’t be happening—it had to be a horrible nightmare or something, right? I couldn’t have missed something so important, could I?
Glancing down at my wet, bloody clothes, I felt the bile rise into my throat. Covering my mouth with my hand, I stumbled to my feet and ran toward the downstairs bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before I vomited.
Chapter One
Anna-
Different floral aromas mixed together, filling the room in the tiny, nondenominational church with their scents. A minister whom I’d never met, and was certain Jessi didn’t know, was telling the congregation about the meaning of life and how much she would be missed. Honestly, listening to him was making me slightly angry. What right did a stranger have to tell us about her?
Sitting in fold out chairs with the rest of Caleb’s roommates and band members, I glanced to the row ahead, where Caleb had his arm draped around his stepmom. Danica had taken “funeral black” dramatically over the top with her outfit—a suit that was slightly too low cut in front to be appropriate, as well as too short, with spiked black heels. Underneath a black flowered hat, complete with a short veil that draped over half her face, her blonde hair and pale skin were the only color that broke up the morbid ensemble. I found it interesting that even though her husband, Hank, was sitting stoically next to her, it was Caleb she kept leaning toward and weeping against.
Except for their tall height, Caleb was nothing like his dad. I couldn’t really compare their hair color, since Caleb had been dying his for years. When he was younger, his natural color was medium brown, if I remembered correctly. Now, it was black, except for a small patch of blonde that had been bleached into the ends of his long bangs. Where his dad kept his hair buzzed short, Caleb wore his longer, shaggier around his ears, and longer on his neck. It was all part of his “rocker persona” as the lead guitarist in our band, Fringe. Caleb was friendly, warm and outgoing. Hank McCord was not—having even served jail time in the past for spousal abuse. I never could figure out why Danica stayed with him. When Hank was home, Jessi had spent as much time away from the house with Caleb, or me, as possible. Neither she nor Caleb got along with their dad.
As if he could feel me staring at him, Caleb glanced over his shoulder to where I was sitting, shooting a half smile in my direction before reaching back to pat my knee. “Doing okay?” he mouthed and I nodded briefly, staring sympathetically into his bright blue eyes before he turned around.
Caleb was classically handsome. Drop dead gorgeous hot might be better terminology, actually. Even Jessi used to bemoan the fact he was her stepbrother—not that he would’ve paid attention to either of us. He was over three years older than me and almost four years older than Jessi. He was a sophomore in college and twenty-one years old. We were high school seniors and way beneath his notice—at least until the day his band lost their lead singer and Jessi convinced him to let me audition.
The guys weren’t too keen on having a girl in their band, especially one so young; but I had the pipes for it and it turned out to be an amazing fit for all of us. I went from being an only child, who wished for a brother, to having four very overprotective older adopted brothers. Caleb, the twins, Rick and Riley Forrester, and Justin Stedman, who insisted we call him Stix because he thought it sounded like a cool drummer name. Though I loved them all desperately, I wasn’t sure I liked them always looking over my shoulder, threatening every guy who tried to date Jessi or me. They were constantly running off potential boyfriends.
Now, what would it be like with her gone?
“Anna, do you ever think about what it would be like to die?” Our conversation from a week ago suddenly popped into my head.
Puzzled, I glanced at her. Under normal circumstances, I’d have thought she was joking; but she seemed so serious.
“Can’t say that I have, honestly. Why?”
Jessi shrugged, pulling the light jacket she was wearing tighter around her. “No reason, really. I just wonder if it hurts. ” She flicked her long blonde hair behind her shoulder, briefly casting a sidelong look at me.
“Well, I guess that would depend on how you died.”
“True.”
“What brought all this on?” I asked, confused by her line of questioning.
She laughed. “Nothing really. Just my crazy mind. You know how it is. How’s the new song coming along?” She changed the subject without answering.
The conversation suddenly seemed very ominous now, as if it were a foreshadowing of what would come. I should’ve pressed harder to discover what was bothering her. What if she was trying to reach out and I wasn’t listening? Was her death my fault? Had I been a bad friend who didn’t pay attention to what was going on?
Tears leaked from my eyes at the thought of her hurting and having no one to turn to. Why wouldn’t she have gone to Caleb if I wasn’t listening? Had she spoken to him and I just didn’t know about it? Even though they were stepbrother and sister, not even related by blood, they were very close. Did he know what had happened?
Staring at the urn that rested among sprays of funeral arrangements near a smiling picture of Jessi, I suddenly felt a wave of panic wash through me. She was gone—really gone. This wasn’t a game we were playing. It was reality. She wouldn’t be coming back after we were done with all this funeral stuff.
Flashes of the bloody water that plagued my nightmares came unbidden into my mind, bringing the nausea with it. Suddenly the room felt unbearably hot and oppressive. Unable to take it for another second, I leapt from my seat, rushed up the aisle, toward the double doors, before
bursting outside into the filtered light from the cloudy gray skies that too often frequented Bainbridge Island. The smell of the water from Puget Sound drew my attention to a small area on the church grounds overlooking the harbor, and to the Seattle skyline in the distance. I could clearly make out the Space Needle, set slightly off to the north of the other downtown skyscrapers. A large, white ferry was making one of its many daily trips across the water toward the island and, for a moment, I was tempted to run to the dock and escape into the city for a while. I wanted to be somewhere else—anywhere else—but here, at the memorial service for my best friend.
“Anna? Are you all right?” Caleb’s rich baritone voice floated over me, soothing me instantly.
“No.” I spoke without turning, my voice barely a whisper. “I can’t be in there. It makes me feel sick.”
“Me, too,” he answered softly, coming to stand beside me. The two of us stared across the water together for several moments.
“Did she talk to you?” I finally asked, not caring if my timing was callous. I had to know.
“No.” He didn’t offer anything else.
“This is tearing me up inside. How did I miss something so horrible that it made her kill herself? Was she afraid to talk to me? What could’ve been so awful that taking her life seemed like the only possible way out?” A sob escaped me.