Twisting Fate Read online

  Twisting fate

  Fate Series # 2

  By: Charisse Spiers

  Copyright 2014 Charisse Spiers. All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means such as electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior written permission of the author of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Prologue

  Breyson

  The nose of the plane tears through the still water similar to a baseball going through a sheet of glass at rapid speed. The multi ton steel bird jars left and right, crumbling as it is forced through water that is as hard as cement. Bodies are flying everywhere in the cabin and I just hold on for dear life as it all happens in a split second. Blood is being sprayed as the life around me disintegrates on contact with the wall of the plane. It's like a horror film being played out in real life. The only thing I can't fathom out of all of this going on around me is never seeing Kinzleigh's beautiful face again. I'm going to drown or worse, become shark bait and I didn't even get to kiss her one last time.

  My head snaps backward and hits hard against the metal wall. A searing pain shoots throughout my body and I can feel something warm oozing down the back of my head and neck. I touch my fingers to the point of origin and when I pull them back in front of me, they are covered in blood. The front of the plane is already being purged through the water toward the bottom of the ocean at a quick pace. It gives you no time to think, only a second to react. This cannot be the end of my life. I have to make it; I just have to. I can't explain it, but there is something unfinished; something I need to come back for. I don't know what is so important, but my gut tells me it’s something big. I feel like something in my soul is calling out to me to fight. She needs me.

  This is it. It’s do or die time. I inhale, potentially taking my last breath. So many around me have already taken theirs and the others are hanging on by a thread and ready to give up; ready to make peace with death. Me, I have something to go back to that makes the decision for me. As quickly as the adrenaline races through my body, everything fades away, but the dark water that surrounds me.

  Pitch black. That’s the color pallet before me. I can’t see anything. Placing my arms out in front of me, I feel my way through the plane. My lungs are burning as I slowly exhale the only air present in my body. I have to get out of here before gravity takes over and makes this my coffin, along with the others that are already dead.

  Cold. Smooth. Glass. Those are the things that register underneath my fingertips. I backup slightly and feel a body. Chills run down my arms and legs; the pilot. Don’t think about it. Get the fuck out of here. I place my arms on the armrests to hold my weight on top of him. If this doesn’t creep someone out, I don’t know what will. I kick at the glass as hard as I can and as many times as I can. I will not die in here. It crackles beneath my shoes and finally gives away. I can make out a short distance in front of me.

  Gasping for air, I fight not to get taken under with the current as the shredded metal of the plane gets sucked under the water more rapidly with each passing second. I can't see worth a shit from the black of the sky covering the horizon. Night is at its peak and I can hardly breathe, because every time I try to come up for air, I get pulled underneath the water again with the current. There have been so many people to lose their lives to the pits of the ocean floor and it’s trying to take me as its next victim by grabbing me by the neck and strangling me with its water made hands.

  I was able to get through the glass of the cockpit and somehow fight against the pull that was trying to hold onto me. My lungs hurt from the lack of oxygen for extended periods, but I battle to break through the surface for the last time. My muscles are so tired I can barely move, but I can't stop fighting. I need to find something to hold onto. I can't hear anything around me; no cries for help or suffering. It's deafly silent other than the bubbling of the water as the plane continues to sink to the bottom of the ocean.

  I find something floating in the water and swim in its direction. What it is I couldn't tell you. All I can think about is the fatigue my body is enduring to try and stay alive. Giving up would be easy at this point. The pain has already consumed my body. Surrendering my mind to it as well and let the ocean take me would take no effort, but I can't. I have to keep going. I have to get back to her. The gash in the back of my head is pounding with the beat of my heart, making me dizzy. My stomach churns, wanting to rid itself of everything filling it.

  Finally reaching the floating remains in the water, I grab on and hold on for dear life. Maybe if I believe in my mind enough that I can get out of here it will really happen. The water is cold, but not cold enough to be close to New York in February. I guess it could be just the adrenaline keeping me in a warmer state. I have no idea where I am. I need food, water, and sleep, but looking out in the distance at the black water there is nothing in sight for miles. Wait…is that a light? Whatever it is it's off a good stretch in the distance. It looks like a small beam of light, but I can't be completely sure.

  The closer it becomes, I notice it is a spotlight on what looks to be a small fishing vessel. I try to scream, but nothing comes out. I'm too tired from trying to stay afloat and dehydrated from being in the salty water. I remember the flare I placed in my pocket before the plane went down. It's worth a try to see if it still works. Reaching down with what little bit of strength I have left, I try and keep myself balanced on the small makeshift float. I'm shivering from the long period of being soaking wet in the night air and my head is throbbing. My vision is starting to get blurry and everything in my mind is getting hazy. Something is wrong. My vision is starting to fade, placing me in a full state of panic.

  Pulling the flare out of my pocket, I hurry to set it off. I know my time is coming to an end, I can feel it. This is the part where I die. I’m scared. I’m scared of everything I’m about to leave behind. I always thought my death would be quick and painless, not having to anticipate it. My eyes get heavy and a pair of speckled green eyes flash through my mind. "Breyson, I love you. Come back to us." Like a cloud of smoke, it’s gone. I tense and look around to see where the whisper was coming from. I recognize that voice, but the name escapes me. Why can't I think of her name?

  "I'll never leave you," I call out into the onyx sky. “That’s a promise. Wait for me.” My vision is fading quickly and the flare is released, shooting off into the sky similar to fireworks. The beam of light in the distance scans back over me, but I'm already too far and gone to do anything more. I can't see anything, but the face of a beautiful and familiar girl with the perfect blonde curls and stunning green eyes. That face is unforgettable. I think I should know her, but I don't.

  Chapter 1

  Kinzleigh

  Post crash day one...

  I think my tear ducts have officially been drained. I couldn't cry even if I wanted to. My face is red and swollen from the constant flood of tears since I came out of the medicated state I was forcefully put in. I don't really remember anything before I blacked out, but the fact that no matter how much I couldn't breathe, nor could I stop the tears. If I ever thought I was heartless before, I was wrong. I now know what it's like to be missing one of the most vital organs of the body: my heart. When I finished listening to that vi
deo message, my heart was no more. Call it whatever you want: dead, shattered, blackened, numb, absent, lifeless; I don't care, but it is forever gone.

  Lying in this hospital bed only reminds me of that day after my seizure...with him. The doctor said I experienced posttraumatic stress and went into a panic causing my body to shut down in order to protect itself. I used to never call doctors quacks, but this time calls for something different. The nerve; to tell me I've experienced post traumatic stress when the one and only person that I will ever love had to go through an actual trauma. No, what I experienced was death of the heart when it was ripped from the cavity of my body as he told me goodbye.

  From what I've been told they had to medicate me in order to calm my anxiety and keep stress down, so I don't miscarry our baby. What am I supposed to do now? Now that I'm over the initial shock and denial, I realize just whose fault this actually is. It's not his fault at all; it's mine. I should have never bought him those tickets. Had I not purchased those stupid tickets, he wouldn't have gotten on that plane. This is the exact reason I avoided love and all things related.

  People thought I was crazy to have the views I had with no prior cause, but look at which one of us was right. I know now that I have some kind of curse on me. Something bad happens to everyone I allow myself to love unconditionally. First Grams and now Breyson. I can't ever allow this to happen again. I will never forgive myself for this. When he died, I died. I will never again live a whole life. I will be miserable from this day forward. I've experienced happiness and that happiness is lying at the bottom of the ocean somewhere.

  I can feel the bile rising from the pit of my stomach. Grabbing the trashcan beside my bed, I release the contents of my stomach for what seems like the thousandth time. My throat is raw from the constant stomach acid traveling through my esophagus. Breyson's mom told me I have a condition known as hyperemesis gravidarum, also known as severe morning sickness. I can't seem to keep anything down and what little bit I do is only because they have prescribed me a nausea medicine they prescribe for cancer patients. I'm already losing weight from the pregnancy and grief. Breyson's mom is constantly trying to shovel food down my throat, but the thought of food physically makes me ill, baby or not.

  A knock sounds at the door and it opens. That's the thing I hate about hospitals. What's the point in knocking if they are going to come in whether you want them to or not? "Hey, Sweetie. How are you holding up?" Breyson's mom walks in the room looking as bad as I do. You can clearly see the pain written all over her face. She's hurting, but trying to be strong. I can't even imagine the thought of losing a child and I don't even have a child...yet.

  Placing the garbage can back on the floor, I fix the blanket that is laying over me. Swallowing hard to try and moisten my dry throat, I begin to cry again. It hurts me to see his family because of the physical similarities, but of all of them, the only one I can't physically be around is Braxton. The last time he came to check on me I lost it and by lost it, I mean completely flipped my shit. To avoid having to overmedicate me in my newly pregnant state, they decided it was best if I didn't see him right now. Will this ever get better? How am I supposed to look at his clone and stay in a normal mental state? Being around him is physically painful. It's like someone holding your favorite piece of cake in front of you, but never letting you have it.

  Wiping my eyes even though I know it won't do any good I try to reply. "I've been better, but I'm alive. I think I would rather be dead though, to be brutally honest." The flow of tears pick up from moderate to heavy. She sits on the hospital bed beside me as I turn on my side to make room. She begins rubbing my back in a motherly gesture.

  "I know how you feel even though the type of pain we feel are different. I can see how much you love him and as a mother that makes me happy to know he was truly loved. This is going to be hard to say; however, as your doctor I need to say it, but first as his mother. I know my son, and over the last several months we've had a few heart to hearts that we never had before you came along. He had a lot of love in his heart for you. I believe with all my heart you two would have discovered forever together had things not turned out this way. I want to thank you for making him the person he was when he left, but he wouldn't want to see you this way. I know it's hard, but for the baby's sake you need to try and find a way to cope. I know it was unplanned, but that baby is the only part of him we have left. I'd rather lose one than both, so please do whatever is necessary to protect that baby. You need to find a way to eat, Sweetie. You're already losing weight. I know some of it is from the nausea, but a big majority of it is from the pain of losing him. This amount of weight loss is never good for a fetus, especially since you're already so small." I can't hear this right now. I care about this baby; it would take a heartless person not too, but I care about Breyson more right now. How can someone ask me to try and not mourn his death?

  I know she's only worried about the baby right now and you can see the torment all over her face for her son, but I can't just pretend this didn't happen. The tears stream down my face, clouding my vision. I want him back. I need him back. I can't function without him. I tried to avoid this, but I fell for him against my will, hard, and now here I am. Now, I sit here in agony, needing him desperately. I need to get out of this hospital. I need to find some way to get him back. I need to go talk to Beau.

  She looks at me, clearly concerned. "Do you think you can hold down some soup? I know some great places in town. I could go get you some." I need to get her out of here. I'll do whatever it takes to bring him back, no matter how insane it sounds.

  "Sure, soup may be good. When can I get out of this hospital? I want to go home." I need to smell his scent. I need to be where I can feel him and this hospital is not the place I'm going to find him.

  "I need to check the baby one more time and clear it with your Neurologist first, but after that you should be free to go. We're going to have to monitor your anxiety. It releases hormones that can cause preterm labor and it's way too early for that to happen and the baby survive. I'll go get you something to eat and then we'll talk about getting you out of here. Okay, Honey?" I hate to do this to her, because she is an amazing woman and has been nothing short of wonderful to me, but I need to get out of here. I nod and wipe my puffy tear stained cheeks.

  She stands and walks toward the door. As she places her hand over the handle she looks back at me. "I know this is hard honey, but somehow we will get through this. I'm always here for you and hope you know I love you as my own daughter. Just because..." She clears her throat. "Breyson isn't here that doesn't mean I want to see you any less than if he were." With that said, she swipes away the tear that falls down her face and exits the room.

  I don't know where the tears consistently come from, because I can't cry anymore; wishful thinking I guess because I can't stop them either. Sitting up, I throw my legs over the edge of the bed. As I stand, I have to grab onto the bed due to the wave of dizziness that occurs. Once it passes, I grab my duffle bag and pull out a pair of jeans, tee shirt and hoodie. I don't even worry about someone walking in; I just change in the middle of the room. I have to get out of here, and now. The ring Breyson bought me for my birthday lies on the table by the bed, so I grab it and slide it on my finger. I will never again remove it for as long as I live, because it's all I have left...well, for now. I can't seem to become used to the small peanut that now lives in my womb. On instinct, I place my hand over my flat belly. "I'll guard you with my life baby," I mumble to myself.

  Now fully dressed and free of IV's and monitors, I place a ball cap on my head that one of the guys left in the room in an attempt to look less like an escapee. Walking across the room in a hurry to avoid the monitors giving my plan away, I make it to the door. Opening it only a few inches, I peek my head out to check the hallway for hospital staff. When I see the coast is clear, I walk quickly to the elevator. Thankfully, I make it undetected. How am I supposed to make it to where I need to be without my car? I don't think I t
horoughly thought this through.

  As I'm walking through the parking garage, I begin to look around. Crap! I really don't want to go back to that room. I'd be willing to do anything to avoid it. I can't handle being there right now. What I need is to go see Beau. Maybe he can help me. "Kinzleigh?" I turn in the direction of the familiar voice to see Simon standing with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "Shouldn't you be...ya know, in the hospital? I was just on my way to check on you."

  Seeing a familiar face triggers an idea. "I can't be here anymore. I need to get away for a while. Will you take me somewhere?" If anyone could understand it would be Simon. He's been my friend since day one without the chattiness of being a girl. Adalynn or Londyn would carry me back to that room kicking and screaming if they had to, out of concern for my health.

  He begins scratching the back of his head as he looks back and forth between me and the entrance of the hospital. Don't even think about taking me back in there. "I don't know, Kinzleigh. What if something happens to you because you left against medical advice? I don't want to be responsible for that. I care about what happens to you."

  What is it about man-whore bad-boys that decide to be knights on white stallions around me? Do I wear some kind of sticker on my forehead that screams, damsel in distress? It's getting really annoying. I don't want to be treated any differently by guys than Adalynn or Presley. I don't need every guy that step’s into my path to treat me as if I'm possible marriage material. They couldn't be more wrong. "I'm going with or without your help, Simon. You can take me or I can find someone else, but make the choice. I need to go."

  He lets out a breath and walks closer to me, before wrapping me in his arms. My face is being squished into the center of his chest. "Of course I will take you. I am just worried about you. I'm really sorry that you have to go through all of this. I'm always here if you need to talk to someone. You know that right?" He places his chin on top of my head and squeezes me tighter into his embrace. In one sense I feel guilty, because of Breyson's issues with Simon, but in another sense being with Simon is the first time I've relaxed since everything happened. Maybe it's because he feels so brotherly instead of the attraction I have with Breyson. Don't get me wrong, Simon's an attractive guy, but I just don't feel the way about him that he feels about me. I’m not interested in a casual hookup with him, a friend with benefits scenario. Simon sort of fills in Konnor’s position as brother and protector since he's away at school and can’t be here when I need him very often.