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Disenchanted
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Disenchanted
The Disenchanted Series
Book One
By L.D. Davis
Copyright © 2019 L.D. Davis
All Rights Reserved
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, and events are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Edited by Leddy Harper. Cover design by Focus4Media.
Copyright
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Preview of Perseverance
Prologue
Nine Years Ago
“I’m sorry, but there was an incident,” I said as I took my place next to Gavin on the bench. I reached into my bag and presented him with the flattened sandwich. “Someone sat on my bag on the bus this morning.”
One brow rose. “You’re giving me a smashed ass sandwich? Please at least tell me the ass belonged to an attractive woman with good hygiene.”
I gasped, scandalized, and put a hand over my chest. “Gavin Mills. You have a fiancée!”
He took the sandwich from me and began to unwrap it. “I’m pretty sure my fiancée would agree. No one wants ugly, smelly smashed ass sandwiches.” He flashed me that brilliant smile and winked as he took a bite. “Thanks.”
I smiled. “You’re welcome.”
Every Monday and Wednesday for the past two months, Gavin and I met at the same bench in the park for lunch. I brought the sandwiches and he brought the drinks and snacks. I always got there early to claim it before anyone else, or to make other civilians give it up by making them feel very uncomfortable. Hey, we really liked our bench.
Four months ago, Gavin moved back to Ohio, leaving my sister, his fiancée, in Philadelphia. It’d been hard for him in the beginning. At that time, Lily had just begun to claw her way out of a deep, dark, and debilitating depression that had lasted for months. Her depressive state had been triggered by a tragedy she and Gavin had shared…the loss of their baby. Little Anna had been born too soon. I’d arrived in Philly two days later to find my sister clutching a wrapped bundle, wailing with grief, and Gavin clutching her, trying to hold both of them together with torment etched in his face.
Lily’s grief had been so overwhelming for the couple that Gavin had no choice but to put his own grief aside to take care of her. She barely ate, spoke, or even seemed to be aware of the world around her. Every day he had worried he’d come home from work or school and find my sister unable to hang on another day. Without Lily being mentally or emotionally present, I’d become Gavin’s listening ear in hushed phone calls, and his figurative—and sometimes literal—shoulder to cry on as he tried his best to deal with the loss of his child as well as my sister’s depression. I’d been terrified and sad for Lily, but I’d kept it to myself, because she and Gavin needed my support and strength, whether they knew it or not.
Lily still struggled with her depression, but she was getting better. She’d been strong enough to not only resume her classes over the summer, but to shift into a long-distance relationship with Gavin. In less than a year, she too would be coming back to Ohio, and she and Gavin planned to get married soon thereafter and start the next chapter in their lives together.
“Our parents are expecting us for dinner Saturday,” he said as he gathered our trash. “In fact, your mom and my mom both called me at the office within a half hour of each other. I think they planned it.”
I snorted. “You’re the sucker who always answers.”
“That makes me a good son and you a suckass daughter. Will you be riding down with me or Flintstoning it in your POS?”
My car really was a piece of shit. In need of a new exhaust system, amongst a myriad of other things, it was loud and hazardous to the environment with its black clouds of doom that it expelled through its tailpipe. Fortunately, living in a city with ample public transportation meant I didn’t have to use it much.
“When are you going, and when are you coming back?”
“I really don’t feel like driving two hours there and two hours back in the same day. I think I’m going to leave Friday night and drive back Sunday morning.”
As he walked the trash a few yards away to a garbage can, I thought about it. If I rode with him, I would save money on gas, but I wouldn’t be able to take my weed with me. Gavin refused to let me transport it in his car. He had some ridiculous fear he’d get pulled over and his car would get confiscated because of a dime bag.
If you were to judge a book by its cover, looking at him now, in his big-boy suit and grown-up hair, you probably wouldn’t believe he used to look and dress like Kurt Cobain and smoke Maryjane like a freakin’ chimney. There was a small white scar through his right eyebrow where a piercing used to be, and a matching one under his lip that had closed. No one probably knew he had about a dozen tattoos under his clothes. Anyone who didn’t know him as little as two years ago wouldn’t have guessed he’d been some punk kid.
Lily, however, still dyed her hair funky colors, used a pound of eye makeup, and had tattoos and piercings in her face. I thought it was cool, if that was who she was. Sometimes I wondered about that, but I wasn’t letting anyone near my face with a needle, or any part of my body.
“Well?” He extended a hand and pulled me to my feet. “What’s it going to be?”
I came to my decision in that instant. “I’ll ride with you. When did you get so…old?”
His brows rose. “Excuse me?”
I gestured toward his suit, his hair. “You know. This…big-boy clothes, grown-up hair, not smoking pot.”
“Oh, I get it. You’re miffed because I won’t let you bring your…provisions.”
“No, I’m just curious. When did you start to feel like a grownup? I don’t feel like a grownup, even though I don’t live at home with my mom and I have a job and pay my own bills. I still feel like a teenager.”
“Uhh…last I checked, nineteen is still a teenager.”
I gave him a sour look. “You know what I mean.”
He sighed and started to put his hand in his hair, but since it was cut and parted so sophisticatedly now, he couldn’t do that without messing it up. “I guess it happened after…” he trailed off, but I knew by the sudden sadness and grief in his eyes what he referred to.
I felt stupid for not figuring it out sooner. “Of course. I’m sorry. That was dumb to ask.”
“It’s okay. It was a good question.”
He was too quiet as we walked our usual path ou
t of the park. He’d been in a good mood when he arrived, but one simple question had blown that to pieces. I knew he was thinking about Anna and those months that followed with Lily’s desolation. She was better now, much better, but still…sometimes she seemed a little unstable. Hell, sometimes Gavin seemed to be unstable, too. Lily wasn’t the only one who battled depression. Gavin just kept it hidden.
An idea suddenly hit me, and I grabbed his arm with eagerness. “How about you come with me tonight? On a run. It’s good for the mind and soul.”
“Is that why you run? For the good of your mind and soul?”
I grinned. “No. I smoke weed for that, but I run to counteract the munchies after I smoke. That doesn’t make what I said any less true, though.”
I was glad see the smile appear on his face.
“Maybe I’ll partake in the running bit. You can keep your weed all to yourself.”
I bounced on my toes and poked him in the chest. “You better dig out your short shorts and your knee socks, my friend. Tonight, we run.”
“I hope I can keep up with you.”
“That’s what all the boys say,” I drawled as I fluttered my lashes.
His laughter warmed me down to my feet. With an arm draped companionably over my shoulders, we strolled out of the park together.
That evening we ran until the sun went down. As I’d hoped, the exercise had done Gavin some good. He seemed lighter when we returned to his apartment, out of breath and in search of hydration. That haunted, far-away glaze in his eyes from earlier in the afternoon was gone. A healthy pink bloomed in his cheeks from the run, and he seemed to be abuzz with more energy than I could recall seeing from him since tragedy had zapped it out of him.
I continued to study him while we stood in his kitchen, drinking glasses of cold water. “I knew that was a good idea. I’m a genius.”
Gavin didn’t disagree, even as he chuckled at my pronouncement. “You are. Maybe you’re going into the wrong field of study. You should be a wellness counselor.”
I brightened at that. “I should. I can even instruct my clients on the proper way to roll a blunt.”
His eyes rolled. “I take back what I said. You need to leave that shit alone.”
Refilling my glass, I gave him a dismissive wave. “You smoked for years, and look at you now. A professional, doing adult stuff.”
“Yeah? You might want to try doing some adult stuff.”
“What? No way. Then we’ll both be boring.”
He flicked his glass in my direction, making the last few drops of his water splatter in my face.
“Ass,” I laughed and wiped my face with the bottom of my shirt.
Gavin’s eyes flickered down to my bare stomach just before the shirt dropped back into place. They eased up to my neckline, which was still damp from our run. “You’re sweaty.”
There was something in his voice and in the way he looked at me that made my stomach do the smallest of flips. I pushed back a few wisps of my hair that had escaped my ponytail, tucked it behind my ear, and tried to keep my tone light. “Yeah, so are you. You’re way sweatier than me, and you stink.”
He took one step toward me, threateningly. “Oh, you think so?”
I quickly put my glass down and held up both hands to ward him off. “Don’t even think about it.”
He took another menacing step and played dumb, with his eyes narrowed in false confusion. “Don’t even think about what? I just want a hug. Come on, give me a hug, Lyd.”
I squealed and jumped back when he reached for me. “Gavin! Stop it. I don’t want any of your body funk on me.”
“Come on, Lyd. What’s a little body funk between lifelong friends?”
Another squeal came out of me when he reached for me again. I ran into the living room, where Gavin caught up to me near the couch. I laughed and shouted as he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me against him to rub his sweaty chest all over my back.
“Oh my God, you’re so gross, Gavin!”
I managed to escape from his arms and had just enough time to spin around, planning to push him away. If he wouldn’t back off, I would threaten to tell his mom on him, which was immature and silly, but all these years later, the threat worked just as well as it had when we were little kids. Except, suddenly, this was nothing like our playful fights as little kids, or like anything since then. Nothing about our behavior was unusual, until he reached for my waist again, and I backed up and fell on the couch. Gavin, losing his balance, fell on top of me.
Wheezing and laughing, I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed. He wasn’t that much bigger than me, but he didn’t budge, and that was where my humor evaporated. Gavin stared down at me, something clouding his eyes that I’d never seen before—or at least never directed at me. His chest heaved as if he’d just finished his run seconds ago and not a quarter of an hour ago.
“Gavin…”
No more words came, because he was kissing me. Gavin—the guy I had known my whole life, who was like family to me, my sister’s fiancé—was kissing me. And the worst part was that I kissed him back.
There was nothing sweet in our actions, nothing soft, and nothing slow. Our lips moved together in fierce desperation, and in moments, my shorts and panties were down, caught around my left ankle. It was like we were in a hurry to start before either of us had time to think about the absolute wrongness of what was happening, or what was about to happen. We fell into the heat of the moment and rolled with it, allowing our physical needs and desires to dominate, and leaving common sense, decency, and loyalty on the wayside.
A little while later, we were both sweaty again, for a whole different reason. I was numb as I lay under Gavin. We couldn’t even look at each other as he pulled out of me and got to his feet. I sat up, looked around for my bottoms only to find them still tangled around my ankle. Distantly, I realized my shoes were still on.
Mechanically, I got up, ignoring Gavin, and went to the bathroom to wash up. As I stood at the sink, water running with a bunch of paper towels folded in my hand, I noticed my ponytail had mostly come out and my hair was a wreck. The instant I saw my own eyes, I glanced away, unable to face myself.
After I cleaned up and put my shorts and panties back on, I fixed my hair without looking in the mirror and left the bathroom. Gavin was on the floor in front of the couch, a cleaning spray bottle beside him as he scrubbed at the couch cushion with a sponge. The only expression on his face was one of pure determination, as if getting the stain off the couch would erase the stain of our betrayal.
Three Weeks Later
It was getting cold, not so much during the days but in the evenings when the sun went down. I spent my whole morning searching for my favorite jacket. It had my high school’s name stitched on the front, and our school mascot on the back. My sister had given it to me as a graduation present. I had loved high school. Life was simpler then and I hadn’t gone through all that teenage angst and drama the movies and shows always depicted. The angst and drama didn’t hit my life until a few weeks ago.
After I walked home from class, I checked my car again for my jacket, but without any luck. With an epic sigh, I knew there was only one last place to look. Honestly, I suppose I knew all along where it was. I plucked my phone out of my pocket to check for the time. If I drove, I could be in and out of Gavin’s house before he got home from work. Without thinking about it further, I got behind the wheel and headed to Rocky River.
Even though I knew Gavin wouldn’t be home, I was nervous about going to his apartment. That was the last place we’d seen each other.
“Right after we had sex,” I said aloud to no one.
I felt like running myself over with my own car. I tried very hard over the past few weeks not to think about what I’d done, but there was no way around those thoughts, no way around that guilt. It clawed at me inside, shredding me to ribbons. That night, after the shock of my actions had worn off, I’d cried for hours.
Many times, I had picked
up the phone, intending to call Lily and confess, but I couldn’t make myself complete the call. Obviously, I worried about what the betrayal would do to our relationship, but mostly I worried about what it would do to her. After all she’d been through, after all she was still going through and everything she still struggled with, me telling her I’d slept with the love of her life could literally kill her. So, I avoided talking to her for the past few weeks, under the guise of being busy with school and work, when in reality I didn’t want to slip up and tell her the truth. Not yet. However, with the anniversary of Anna’s death quickly approaching, I knew I would have to call her. I just wasn’t sure I could lie to her and break her heart.
Gavin and I spoke only once since that night. He called me the following morning, sounding like shit, just like me.
“I don’t think we should see each other for a while.”
I readily agreed. “I think that’s a good idea. I…I don’t know how this happened. I don’t know how we let it happen.” My voice broke after only a few words and I was silently crying again.
Gavin was quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat. “It’s my fault. I initiated it.”
“I could have stopped you. It’s my fault, too.” I hesitated before asking, “Are we going to tell her?”
“I think we should, eventually.”
I felt relief and terror, but agreed with him once more. “I want to tell her, just not yet. I don’t think she can handle it right now. Maybe when she’s better, when she’s stronger.”
“Right. When she’s stronger.”
“Are you going to visit her in a couple weeks?”
He sighed. “No. I’m in the middle of a project at work. I won’t have time.”
“Oh.”
“You could go, though, can’t you? She could use your support.”
I shook my head even though he couldn’t see me, and tears slipped down my face. “I can’t face her and not tell her the truth.”
I heard his shaky inhale and exhale. “Me neither. Last night’s conversation was very hard. I don’t know how I’m going to keep doing this, but I promise you when I am ready to tell her, I’ll let you know. If you feel you can’t hold out anymore, you have to let me know, too.”