Kash grabbed my hand, and pulled it toward him to kiss the inside of my palm when we were a couple minutes from his parents’. I smiled over at him and curled my hand around his to squeeze it, and his eyes flashed on my pale blue nails. Kissing them, he smirked at me before bringing our hands down to rest on the center console.
“I wonder what color he’ll send this time.”
I didn’t have to look at his eyes to know there was no lingering doubt there. After Kash had given me the option to leave with Trent, and we’d talked about everything I’d been feeling, he seemed to understand how I viewed Trent. Nothing more than my protector, and friend. A month after Trent had left, I knew for sure that Kash was finally okay with him.
Every month, on the fourth, a small package was delivered to Kash at the police department. And every month, I was waiting anxiously for him to come home with it. It was always a bottle of nail polish with a card that only ever said two words. “I’m fine.” The only time it ever changed was on the Fourth of July. Along with the polish, there would be a new journal for me, and somewhere in the middle would be a letter from him giving me more insight into his new life, without ever giving away his name, location, or job.
That first month, Kash had been confused but had finally pieced it together by the time his shift was ending. He’d read my journal from when I’d been kidnapped, and remembered everything Trent had bought me, and was honestly appreciative that Trent was—in a weird way—letting me know he was safe. I wished there was a way for me to thank him, but there was never a return address, and every month it was somehow sent from a different state. Besides, he was already risking a lot; it could put him in danger if we tried to get in touch with him. So I would be happy with my monthly gift from him. At least Kash and I could be happy for him and his new life, based on the two letters.
With a soft smile, I squeezed Kash’s hand and said, “Few more days and we’ll find out, I guess.”
After putting the car in park, Kash looked at me seriously and whispered, “I’ve got fifty on orange.”
“Silver,” I whispered back. “And you’re on.”
He laughed and kissed me swiftly before getting out of the car. After we got Kennedy and Kira out of the car, we made our way inside the house, and everyone rushed over to take the girls.
“Oh, we haven’t seen you in so long!” Marcy crooned at Kennedy as Richard took Kira.
“Mom, it’s been a week and a half.”
She leveled her signature glare at Kash, before smiling and raining kisses all over Kennedy’s face. “Don’t start with me, Logan. A week and a half is a long time to go without my favorite girls.”
“Rachel!” Maddie screamed, and ran toward me.
Kash stepped in front of me and blocked my stomach. “Calm down, turbo.”
Maddie rolled her eyes and pushed him aside as she bounced up and down on her toes, her left hand going in front of her face as she squealed.
“Oh my God! Congratulations!” I grabbed her hand and looked at the ring on her finger before pulling her in for a hug. “When did he ask?”
“Christmas!”
“Congrats, and nice rock, Aaron,” I teased as I pulled Maddie’s new fiancé in for a hug.
Like I hadn’t known. I’d gone with him to pick out the ring.
“She loves it. Thank you,” Aaron whispered into my ear, and I winked when he pulled back.
I listened to Maddie tell me all the details of the proposal as I accepted hugs from her parents and other family friends. After we’d said hello to everyone, Kash pulled me into his chest and ran his hands over my swollen belly, and I continued talking to Maddie as he talked to Aaron.
Maddie and I had grown incredibly close over the last couple years, and I was so happy to see her with Aaron. Too many guys had burned her before. Aaron had swooped in at the perfect time, and was beyond perfect for her. He was the biggest sweetheart I’d ever met; and though he seemed pretty calm for Maddie’s overexcited personality, they balanced each other really well.
“Where’s my brother?” she suddenly asked.
Kash shrugged. “I don’t know, he said he’d be here. But I haven’t seen him since before we left for California.”
“I haven’t seen him since before Aaron and I got engaged. He keeps saying he’s busy, I want to show him my ring!”
Looking up at my husband, I nudged his stomach with my elbow. “Call him, babe.”
Keeping one hand on my stomach, he pulled out his phone and brought up Mason’s number.
Kash and Mason were still in the gang unit, and things were going as well as they could in that field. Mason was at our house more often than not and loved playing “Uncle Mase” to the girls. Like Candice, Kash and I had been hoping he’d settle down soon . . . but girls came and went from his apartment just as often as they always had.
“Mason’s bringing a girl,” Kash spoke directly into my ear so no one else could hear us.
Apparently I’d spoken too soon.
“Like . . . ?”
“Like a girlfriend.”
“No way!” I hissed and looked up at him. Kash looked just as surprised as I felt.
A shriek filled the living room and I turned to see Kennedy running as fast as her little toddler legs would carry her.
“Jesus,” I whispered and pointed. “Naked baby.”
Kash laughed and kissed the back of my neck. “You are homeschooling the girls.”
“Whatever you say, Kash.” I winked and watched him take off after Kennedy.
Marcy walked up next to me and handed me Kennedy’s forgotten clothes. “How do you keep that girl in these?”
“We haven’t figured out a way yet. Where’s Kira?”
“Sleeping in Rich’s arms.”
I turned until I spotted them, and smiled at my daughter and father-in-law. They were so cute together.
“Okay, well, I’m going to help Kash with Kennedy, be right back.”
Taking the clothes from her, I walked through the halls until I heard Kennedy’s belly laugh and found Kash blowing more raspberries on her stomach.
“I caught the monster.”
“Your mom collected all her clothes.”
After we got her dressed again, I lifted her onto my hip and walked out toward the living room. Marcy was waiting at the entrance of the hall and made grabby hands at Kennedy.
“Come back to Ya Ya, sweet girl, let’s go hang out with Poppi and Kira.”
Handing her over to Marcy, I giggled when Kash pulled us back into the hall and pressed us close as his mouth teased the sensitive spot behind my ear.
“I don’t think so, mister.”
“I can’t help it . . . this is the one time we’re not chasing after our girls and someone else is watching them. And, fuck, Rachel, you look so hot. Swear to God I’m keeping you pregnant all the time. We’re going to have a football team.”
I laughed and elbowed his stomach. “Whatever.”
“Don’t ‘whatever’ me, Sour Patch. You know you’re sexy as hell.”
I rolled my eyes and turned to kiss him before whispering against his lips, “Liar.”
“Never.”
He captured my lips and I moaned into his mouth when his tongue caressed mine.
“Naked baby!” Maddie called and I let my forehead drop onto Kash’s chest.
“Homeschooling those girls, woman.” He kissed me again before taking off after a squealing Kennedy.
I walked to the front of the hall and scooped up a tired-looking Kira as I enjoyed the view.
Maddie and Aaron were talking quietly in a corner. Close friends were gathered in clumps around the living room and kitchen—some talking to their group, others laughing at the circus that was my family. Richard and Mr. Gates were wiping back tears as they laughed over Mrs. Gates, Marcy, and Kash chasing after Kennedy and looking for her clothes. Soon Mason and this mystery girl would be here, and she would get the crash course in meeting everyone while we all individually interro
gated her.
I loved my family, and I loved our life. Kash and I had gone through rough times at the beginning, but life was good and I prayed it would stay that way. There was never a dull moment—there were plenty of laughs, and plenty of happy and sad tears. He and I still fought like there was no tomorrow, and pancakes were made a few times a week . . . but we loved each other fiercely, and we helped each other through everything. Most importantly, there were never any lies.
Acknowledgments
AS ALWAYS, a huge thank-you to my husband, Cory! You keep me sane, you don’t make fun of me when I start crying, or screaming, about whatever my characters are doing. (Don’t worry, I know you think I’m crazy, but I love that you hide those thoughts and just smile, like my reactions are completely normal!) And if it weren’t for you, I’m pretty sure we would have starved by now. You’re amazing, I love you!
A big, big thank-you to my editor, Tessa Woodward, and my agent, Kevan Lyon. You two mean the world to me, and I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you to talk to about my crazy—and sometimes really horrible—ideas for my books. Kevan, I love that you gag over Kash’s lip ring, and, Tessa, I love that you stop me from trashing my books.
Kelly Elliott, um, I just love you. Plain and simple. What would I do without our weekly lunches? I love that I’m usually crying throughout most of our lunch from laughing so hard, and I love that we rush to claim a name for one of our characters! Like I said, I just love you.
Amanda Stone! I love my Sef! There’s no one else I can sit on the phone with for hours while talking about nothing . . . or just not talking at all, and I love that I can sit there and whine about something I just wrote, and you just tell me to get over it. I will always make sure you approve my posts before I post them. I will always make you pick out my teasers, even if you haven’t read the book yet. And I will always send you snapshots of songs that we’ve listened to a thousand times, just to make you want to listen to it again. Love yewwww.
Jennifer L. Armentrout a.k.a. J Lynn (a.k.a. JL Armentrout when I start mixing your names together! Ha!). I love you and your hilariousness. I love our conversations and appreciate how honest you are with me when it comes to my work. You have no idea how much I love that you aren’t afraid to tell me if something is awful, or demand that a certain character should get his own book. Watch out for the zombies in your backyard!
A.L. Jackson, Kristen Proby, and Rebecca Shea, thank you all for our daily sprints, which keep me motivated, and always start my writing day off with a bang! I love all of you! Kishes!
To all the authors, bloggers, and readers that support me, promote me, and pimp out cover reveals and teasers . . . I love you all so so much. You have no idea how much I appreciate each and every one of you!
An Excerpt from Capturing Peace
Want more Molly McAdams?
Turn the page for an exciting peek at Capturing Peace.
Available in e-book.
Prologue
Reagan
ALL THE AIR left my body in a hard rush. It felt like my stomach was on fire and simultaneously dropping . . . it felt like my heart was being torn from my chest.
No. No, I must have heard him wrong. He didn’t just say that to me.
“W-what? Austin, what did you say?” My voice came out barely above a whisper.
Austin looked around us, the set of his face was hard, and so unlike anything I’d ever seen from him. You usually never saw him doing anything other than smiling. He was the quarterback of the Varsity football team, he was one of the most popular guys in our school. Everyone loved him and his easy-going—somewhat cocky—attitude. I loved him . . . he loved me. I knew he did, he couldn’t be doing this to me.
Leaning in, his blue eyes darted around us again one last time before he whispered, “I said get rid of it.”
One hand flew to my mouth to muffle the shocked cry that had just left me, the other went to my stomach. “No, don’t say that to me.” Tears streamed quickly down my face. I’d been afraid when I’d first realized I was pregnant; I kept telling myself all Austin needed was some time to get used to the idea. “I know we’re young, but we can do this together, I know we can.”
“Reagan, I’m not about to have a mother fucking kid at sixteen. Get rid of it.”
My head shook back and forth slowly. “Austin—”
“I’m not gonna let you ruin both our futures. We have two and a half years of high school left, they were already scouting me this last season, Ray. Do you know how rare that is for a sophomore? Get. Rid. Of it.”
“No!” I shouted and slapped at his hands when he reached for my arms. “No! I can’t—I can’t believe you’d even ask me to do something like that. I know it’s scary, baby, I’m terrified. But we’ll get through it together, I need you. I can’t go through this alone.”
“Reagan . . . I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. Get rid of it, or we’re done.”
Another choked sob tore through me, and my hands dropped down to my stomach.
“Jesus, will you stop?” he hissed, and pulled my hands back so they were at my side. “Everyone can hear you, and when you do shit like that, they’re gonna figure out what’s happening.”
It was the end of the last day before winter break, there were only a handful of people still at the school, and none of them were near us. I’d been trying to figure out how to tell Austin, and hoped that he’d help me find a way to tell my parents over break. Hoped that the couple weeks from school we could spend figuring out a way to get through this together.
I’d been wrong.
I stood there, staring at his hardened features for a few minutes before backing away from his grasp. “I can’t rid of the baby. I won’t.”
“You’re screwing with your future, Ray, think about that. That thing,”—his nostrils flared, and lips curled as the word left him—“is not a damn baby yet. Last chance . . . I’m not going to tell you again.”
He called our baby a thing. A thing!
I didn’t know how far along I was since I didn’t pay attention to my cycles that were never on time anyway. Something my family doctor said probably had to do with my dancing and cheerleading. I hadn’t had any morning sickness; and it hadn’t been until my cheer skirt stopped fitting, and the captain of our team told me I should start eating less, that I’d even thought I could be pregnant. By the time I’d gotten over the denial, gained the courage to even buy and take a test—or five—and gotten over the denial again, I was already sporting a small bump on my otherwise flat and toned stomach. A bump proving there was a life growing inside me . . . not a thing.
Squaring my shoulders, I ignored the tears still falling and my quivering chin, and looked directly into Austin’s blue eyes. “I’m keeping the baby.”
A look of shock crossed his face for all of two seconds before he was glaring at me again. “Just remember . . . you’re the one that threw us away. You’re the one ruining your life. Try to bring me down with you, and I’ll say that thing isn’t mine.”
Locking my jaw, I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much this was killing me. How much I wanted to beg him not to do this. Well, more than I’d already shown. I knew he was hoping his ultimatum would change my mind, and nothing could at this point.
His eyes searched mine for a few more seconds before he straightened with a huff. “Fuck it. Goodbye, Reagan.”
I watched him walk away toward the parking lot, his head turning to each side to see who’d witnessed our conversation. Once his shiny black Camaro peeled out of the lot, I finally unlocked my knees and somehow made my way to my car.
I didn’t remember the drive back to my house. I didn’t remember climbing the stairs to my room. The next thing I knew, I was in my bathroom with my shirt pulled up, my yoga pants pushed down a little, and my hands were gently running over my stomach when a gasp sounded behind me.
My head snapped up before I whirled around to see my mom standing there. Even through my blurred visio
n from the tears, I could see her standing there, her head shaking back and forth, her hands over her mouth.
“No . . . Reagan, no!”
I burst into strained sobs, unable to try and brush it off as something else. My boyfriend of the last sixteen months had just broken my heart. He’d called our baby a thing. I’d been stressing over hiding my bump with loose-fitting clothing for almost a month now. I’d barely turned sixteen and was having a baby.
All the emotions crashed down on me, and no matter how much I wanted to deny it, I needed my mom right now.
“M-mom.” I somehow managed to say through the near-hyperventilating crying.
“No. What have you done?” she shrieked as she backed away from me.
“Mom, please!”
I’d followed her into my bedroom, and our heads turned toward my door when heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs. My older brother burst into my room quickly followed by my dad.
What is he already doing home? He usually isn’t home for another few hours.
I panicked when I saw the look of horror cross both their faces. Their eyes glued to my stomach. I quickly pulled my shirt down to cover it, but my arms stayed in front of my little bump, like I was protecting my baby from what was about to happen.
“Daddy,” I cried, and started to take a step toward him, but he took one away.
“I’m going to kill him,” my brother, Keegan, whispered. “I swear to God I’ll kill him.”
“What have you done, Reagan?” Mom screamed again.
My chest ached, and the tears somehow—impossibly—fell harder. “Mom, I’m—”
“Tell me you’re not pregnant! Damn it, Reagan, tell me!”
Hands gripped my arms just as my knees gave out beneath me. “Stop screaming at her!” Keegan yelled back as he walked me toward my bed. “She’s upset enough as it is, you’re not helping anything.”
When we were sitting, I gripped my brother’s hand like a lifeline . . . the only way I could thank him in that moment.