Prologue
A roaring buzz draws me back to consciousness. The thrumming of my heart in my ears is painful and raw—as if I am submerged in three thousand feet of water. The same can be said for my chest. It feels like an elephant is sitting there, squeezing the air out of my lungs as effectively as they were robbed of oxygen earlier tonight.
My mouth moves as I attempt to speak, but not a hum escapes my lips. I feel woozy and frail, like I haven't slept in a week. Pain scorches my veins when I slowly crack open my eyes. The sky is pitch black. Even the moonlight has withered away. I wish it were too dark to see anything because I would sell my soul to the devil not to see this.
“Luca,” I croak out in a sob, my broken heart resonating in my tone.
He doesn't respond. He remains motionless in the driver's seat of his beloved Jeep Wrangler soft-top. It was a gift from his father on his sixteenth birthday. He loves it more than anything—except me. He has stated that many times the past three years. That is why the circumstances of our night are so hard for me to understand. This isn't Luca. The man sitting lifeless next to me isn't Luca.
He is the goofball. Our school’s star quarterback.My soulmate.
I squeeze his hand that is still clutching mine. It takes all my strength to give him the three squeeze routine we do every time we silently declare our love for one another.I(squeeze)love(squeeze)you(squeeze).
Usually, he’d squeeze my hand back four times, the “too” at the end of his declaration requiring an additional squeeze. This time, he doesn’t respond. His hand stays perfectly still.
“Luca, please.”
My appeal is in utter desperation. The smell, the dark pools of blood staining his light gray t-shirt, and his head hanging low brings our night smashing back into me. We fought. That isn’t unusual; we are worse than an old married couple. We bicker over things not worth fighting about because we are as stubborn as each other. My father has often predicted we would either smother each other to death or murder each other in a violent act of hatred.
Luca went for the latter.
He couldn’t see past his pain, past the disbelief surrounding him.
He lost his faith in me.
“I’m so sorry, baby. So very sorry. I should have tried harder. I should have kept plugging away until everyone saw the real you.”I should have been honest with you from the very beginning.
I weave my fingers through Luca’s dark hair, stained with sweat, before tracking them down his jaw. Our impact with the tree trunk stole the last of our light, so I am unable to see his glistening green irises. It is probably for the best. I prefer the memories in my head than the image presented before me now.
“You will always have my support, Luca.Always.” My tone holds the same conviction as it did leading up to our crash.
My lips quiver when I lean across the mangled wreckage separating us to place a final kiss on Luca’s cheek. “I promised to love you until my final breath. I’ll kept my promise. Fly free, baby; your secret is safe with me.”
With a majority of the damage on Luca’s half of the car, I can exit the passenger seat without any hindrance. Every step I take away from the wreckage is done with an immense amount of pain. Although I am covered with cuts and bruises, the majority of my pain centers around my heart. It is broken. Shattered. Never to be repaired.
My brain feels seconds from exploding, but I still dive for the bushes edging the roadside when sirens break through my pulse shrilling in my ears. I should be aiding in their endeavor to help Luca, but if I do that, I can’t keep the promise I made to Luca over three years ago. I let him down tonight. It willneverhappen again.
When bright lights break over the horizon, I thoughtlessly crank my neck backward. It is a stupid thing for me to do. The cracked windscreen and twisted metal of Luca's Jeep send me scampering backward until I land on my ass with a thud. First responders rush to his crumpled car, praying there are survivors amongst the debris of shattered glass and bloodstained metal.
Their prayers are in vain. There are no survivors.
Luca isn’t the only one who lost his life tonight. I did as well.
Chapter One
Three years later. . .
Bright pink feathers fall to my feet as I dart offstage. My corset covers the risqué parts of my body, but with the minuscule folds in my stomach sitting a mere inch under my chest, I can’t suck in an entire breath.
I want to say my mad dash off the stage is because I want to shred this corset off my body, but, unfortunately, that isn’t the case. Just like three years ago, the vibe tonight is off. The clients at Substanz still exude excitement; the dancers are glammed to within an inch of recognition, and Tarren’s new routine is out of this world, but no matter how hard I strive to ignore the niggle warning me that something isn’t right, it won’t budge. It is as strong as the strips of leather pushing my lungs into my throat.
“Boisterous crowd tonight.” Dwain unravels the feather boa from my neck before twirling me away from him. His big, strong hands make quick work of the threads holding my lungs hostage. “Never seen you so eager to get offstage before. What’s the deal?”
I wait for him to yank out the last strip from the back-breaking outfit before spinning around to face him. Since he is nearly seven feet tall, my neck strains to peer into his almost black eyes. Dwain is a bouncer at Substanz Cabaret Club. He is what the dancers and I call a perfect "3B”: big, beautiful, and black. He started at Substanz around the same time as me, going on three years now. He is in his late twenties and has not an ounce of hair on his head, but he has all his teeth.
Dwain is adamant we add on the last reference. For some reason, a mouth full of chompers is more important to him than chiseled cheeks and a strong, defined jawbone. It's fortunate for him he has all three. His molten smirk sends the girls into a tailspin, but not one has taken him home. The girth of his fingers would snap some of the dancers in half, so imagine the massacre other regions of his body would incite?
“Rae? You still with me?” Dwain asks, breaking me from my ruminations.
