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prologue
I stare at the reflection in the mirror, not recognizing the girl I see. The fancy dress, the shoes, the hair, none of it’s me. But take that away and I still don't recognize myself.
Who am I?
I don’t know.
If I don't know then no one does.
I glare at the girl in the mirror, hating her. The hate consumes me and I watch helplessly as my fist flies out, connecting with the glass. It shatters around me, crumbling to the ground just like my life.
Pain radiates from my hand up my arm. I look down and all I see is blood and all I feel is pain. For a moment I’m reminded that I’m alive and I welcome the pain. But it’s not enough. It won't be long until the numbness consumes me, swallowing me whole.
It’s all I know.
It’s all I am.
A shell.
A ghost.
I don't exist.
I used to be okay with that, but I don't know if I am anymore, and that’s what scares me the most.
chapter one
“Hey,” my best friend Tatum poked my side. “Hey,” she hissed a little bit louder. When I still ignored her, she exclaimed, “HEY!”
“Shhhh!” Hushed a guy with his nose buried in a textbook.
“What?” I glared at her, mad that she was disturbing the peace in the library. I mean, honestly, I thought she could at least respect the obvious need to stay quiet in the library. Apparently not.
“Over there,” she nodded her head at something over my shoulder, “is Trenton Wentworth, and his eyes are all over you,” she whispered, smiling excitedly. I wasn’t surprised she knew who Trent was, in this town the Wentworth’s were practically famous—with the kind of wealth they had it was surprising that they still lived in this small town.
“What?” This time I gasped the word. “No.” Her words had poured a bucket of ice-cold water on me. It was like I couldn’t escape the guy. No matter where I hid he always popped up.
I refused to turn and look, but I felt his eyes boring into my back. Those blue eyes had once twisted my stomach into knots and with one bat of his lashes I would’ve come running. Even girls like me weren’t immune to the charms of a guy like Trent.
“I have to go,” I stood hastily, grabbing my books, and pushing my glasses further up my nose. I didn’t care if I had two more hours worth of studying to do and would never be able to finish it at home. My desperation to get away from Trent was more powerful than my need to study…and that was saying something.
I stumbled around the chair and Tatum watched me with a dumbfounded expression. The chair I bumped into crashed to the floor. “Sorry,” I mumbled, not bothering to stop and pick it up.
I had never told anyone about that night.
The night I gave into my desires.
The night I let Trent take a piece of me.
The night I ran from him.
The night my life was irrevocably changed.
I bumbled towards the exit and in my haste one of my books slid from my arms, landing on the floor. I was tempted to leave it, glaring at the treacherous book, but a tan hand was already snaking out and picking it up. The person placed it back on the stack in my arms and I swallowed thickly, refusing to look up. I felt his stare and I knew it was Trent standing before me. Slowly, I looked up and my hazel eyes connected with his. Looking at him was like taking a punch to the gut—leaving me breathless with a pain I couldn’t understand.
“Rowan,” he beamed, and the way he said my name made me squirm…and not in bad way. But oh how I wished I didn’t enjoy hearing my name leave his kissable lips.
I tucked a piece of light brown hair behind my ear. “Trenton,” I stared at his shoes. They were black motorcycle boots with heavy silver buckles. I wondered if they were real motorcycle boots or designer ones just for show.
“My face is up here,” he said in that deep husky voice with a slight chuckle.
I forced my head up and met his eyes. His dark hair was longer on top and shorter on the sides. His chin was dotted in a light dusting of stubble like he’d forgotten to shave this morning. Beneath his leather jacket he wore a navy t-shirt and his jeans looked well worn, even though I knew he could afford new ones.
“What are you doing here?” I stuttered, looking around for a means of escape. I needed to get away from him before I did something stupid…like give into the temptation of Trenton.
Brilliant question, Rowan. I scolded myself when I realized what I’d asked him. Sometimes, words seemed to fly from my mouth without me thinking through what I was about to say. I really needed to work on that.
He chuckled, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. “It’s a library. There’s usually only one reason to be here.”
“Usually?” I questioned with a raised brow. What other reason would one have for coming to the library?
His smile widened. “Well,” he leaned towards me, his lips grazing the shell of my ear, “if you’re really quiet you can always have sex.” He pulled back, laughing at my wide-eyed expression. “I always did have a naughty librarian fantasy.” He looked me up and down and a blush stained my cheeks in what I was sure was an unflattering shade of red. My hair was pulled back, my tortoise shell glasses perched on the end of my nose since my contacts had been bothering me today, and I was wearing a pencil skirt and button down top. It might not have been naughty, but I was dressed like a librarian since I worked here after classes and studied before going home.
“I really need to go,” I explained, realizing that I was still standing in front of him like an idiot. I tried to push past him, but he ceased my efforts with a hand on my arm. His sweatshirt was rolled up, displaying the tattoos that covered his one arm. Tattoos I had been very intimately acquainted with once upon a time. I wondered if he even remembered.
“How could I forget?” He asked.
Oh, no. Had I said that out loud?
“You didn’t have to,” he answered my unspoken question. “I could see it in your eyes that you were thinking about that night.”
I swallowed, my heart beating a mile a minute.
“You were the one that left,” his voice held a tone of irritation. “You never gave me a chance to prove myself to you.” His thumb rubbed circles on my arm, still refusing to let me go, and it was like he thought I was an animal he could calm with a soft touch.
“You didn’t have to,” I yanked my arm from his grasp and glared at him
. “I know what guys like you want from a girl like me. You got it, okay? There’s no need to keep up the farce of a good guy.”
He stared at me with a look of shock. His mouth opened and closed, gaping like a fish. He was at a loss for words and Trenton wasn’t the kind of guy to be left speechless.
I took this opportunity for what it was, and all but ran out the doors of the library. I had to get away from him. If I stood there a second longer I wouldn’t be able to resist him. From the moment I first laid eyes on Trent, when I moved to Winchester my freshman year of high school, I’d been under his spell.
“Rowan!” He called after me, but I kept walking like I hadn’t heard him. “You’re the one acting like a player! So, what?! I was good enough to fuck once but I’m not good enough to give a chance?!” Those words hit me like a slap in the face. Not because they were true, but because they were so very wrong. Trent didn’t know the real me. No one did. If he found out about me, about what I had done, he wouldn’t want anything to do with me. I knew that, so I was only trying to spare him. It had been five years since we lost our virginity to each other on a school camping trip our sophomore year. I’d have thought by now he would’ve forgotten about me, but Trent wasn’t like most guys. He actually cared. He was real. And he was perfect. I didn’t deserve him, frankly no one did. But for some reason, he thought I was someone worth caring about. But if he knew the kind of person I really was he’d run as far away from me as his feet would take him.
I reached the sidewalk and turned to see him standing on the steps staring at me.
“Answer me,” his voice was raised, but not angry. He sounded hurt and that broke my heart, because I was the one causing him pain. If he’d leave me alone, he wouldn’t have to feel that way. But Trent wasn’t the type of guy to give up. Whenever we ran into each other it was like…he still cared about me, and I couldn’t understand it. I ran away from him after we had sex and ignored him through the rest of high school. On the rare occasions when I was forced to interact with him, I was less than friendly. He needed to stay away. I couldn’t afford to let him get close.
“Girls like me don’t end up with guys like you,” I told him and he flinched like I had slapped him.
