Beyond Forever

The guy hitting on me was dressed in a suit and tie. I had no clue what he was doing here. That attire was not usually worn at Ruggers or in this town in general. He reminded me of Hawk’s sperm donor, so I was really not liking this guy. As I grabbed the last plate, a hand grazed my ass then squeezed, making me jump. I dropped some of their plates back to the table, which made a horrible crashing noise.

I turned to the suit guy, Please, don’t do that.

He put his hands up in front of him, It was an accident, sorry. It was no accident since he squeezed. This was the part of the job I hated.

I quickly cleaned up the mess I made dropping the dishes, and loaded my arms back up. Again, a hand shot out and rubbed against one of my breasts, so I turned to him and gritted my teeth, Knock it off, or you will need to leave right now.

I was going to carry on, but a huge hand shot out and picked the guy up by his neck. Abby came running over, grabbing some of the dishes I was about to drop for a second time. Just like that, the suit guy had disappeared, and I saw Dimitri had him by the neck off the ground, held up against a wall.

Beyond the Flame

Carrie Collins

Published by Carrie Collins at Smashwords

Copyright 2021

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

BEYOND

FOREVER

BY

Carrie Collins

A BEYOND NOVEL BOOK THREE

PROLOGUE

Chelsea

I was sitting in the bathroom of my parent’s tiny home, crying my eyes out. My eyes kept wandering back to the pregnancy test sitting on the counter. The two pink lines were mocking me, I swear. This couldn't be happening to me, not now when I had so much to look forward to. I had no idea how I would tell my parents, they might be disappointed in me, and that would hurt.

I grew up in Nebraska, but right before my senior year, my parents got a job at a private college in Illinois. They couldn’t say no as it was an upgrade for both of them despite it being a kitchen job for Mom and a maintenance position for Dad. Those jobs paid more than any other job either one of them ever had before. It meant free tuition for me and great medical coverage for them. This meant a leg up in life for them, and for me too, they figured.

It was terrible saying goodbye to all my friends. I didn’t have a lot of them, and I was nowhere near what could be considered popular. It was hard being the girl with braces, thick glasses, big brains, and painfully shy. My hair was a lovely natural blonde, thick with natural waves through it. I was proud of my hair; it took me years to grow it out. Not everyone wanted to be friends with a person whose best feature was hair while the rest screamed dork. Still, I had a group of friends, and we did things together on the weekends that only a nerdy kid would be into.

We made the move to Illinois a month before school started. Even though it was a public school, I was nervous because we didn’t have a lot of money. Clothing with labels on them represented quality, social class, and the coolness factor. Gone were the years of youth where no one could tell your true social class. I was at the bottom of the feeding pool.

I spent that month looking at magazines in the library, reading up about fashion and how to recycle old clothes to be trendy. The little money I saved babysitting I spent making copies of clothing pictures and purchased books on sewing. It turned out I had a knack for it. So, before school started, I had revamped my entire wardrobe. All the stuff strewn about my room drove my parents crazy, but they were supportive, nonetheless. Mom would even volunteer to be my mannequin from time to time.

Oh, my clothes weren’t perfect because I was still learning to use a needle and thread, but they were definitely better than before. I got a job at a retail clothing store for minimum wage, where they gave me a decent discount. The only clothing I would buy were the hideous clearance items for a few bucks and then would turn them into something cute. I spent hours alone in my room listening to music and sketching ideas.

I met some people in the less popular groups at the new school. Jerry was a part of that group, and he was a nice guy. We started dating, and I lost my virginity to him one night after a party. It was awful, awkward, hurt like hell, and worse, he dumped me the next day. He was upset that I wasn’t into it, and I was sure he must have done it wrong. There were girls who told me they liked having sex, so I just figured we didn’t do it right. On top of that, he told everyone at school we did it, and it was embarrassing as hell. Even worse was the new hoard of boys asking me out because they thought I would do it with them too.

This meant I really wasn’t looking forward to trying it again and avoided it. The rumors faded quickly because some jock did something more interesting than a nerdy girl getting her cherry popped. The other friends I made were cool but didn’t last as everyone headed to college after that. Most of my friends were smart and went away to other states for school. I was going to start at a private college, but Dad was diagnosed with cancer that summer, so I started working instead.

I signed up for community college, taking one class at a time to avoid getting into debt. My mom worked her job, and I worked three trying to make up Dad’s income. I knew they were sad about hindering my education but taking care of my dad was more important. He was irreplaceable. Education could come later. I was still young, and my memories with my dad would last forever. After four long years, Dad was in remission and back at work. Meanwhile, I only had some basic classes at college completed.

Due to crappy timing, I had to wait an additional year to get into the private school. I was twenty-eight by the time I completed my second year and was heading into my third when I saw Roland Emerson again. He was rich, entitled, good-looking, and what I thought was very snobby. Sure, he was good-looking, but his personality took him from a ten to a six.

I knew him from high school, and he was a jerk of the first order. He and his friends were the stereotypical rich guys who made fun of anyone they didn’t think were as good as them. This was the type of man I steered clear of and pretended did not exist. They drove in a lane I couldn’t imagine ever being in, nor would I want to.

He apparently decided to travel the world before completing his schooling and I knew this because I heard him telling his friends about it. He was now attending the same college as me, but his parents were probably footing the bill. I tried to avoid him at all costs because I thought the guy was still trouble and I did not need any of that. But the universe can be cruel, so he woke up one day determined to get me to date him.

Roland started by walking me out of our shared classes and talking to me. Hey, beautiful, you did great on that presentation today. Or Should we celebrate our test scores?

I always replied politely with, Thank you, but I can’t. Or Sorry, I’m working.

Every excuse I gave, the more persistent it made him, and he started showing up at my job at the restaurant. It was like a Broadway production each time he came in. Some of the other servers thought I was crazy not to go for him and wanted to trade places. He would leave ridiculous tips and bring his friends in, acting like we were the greatest of friends. It was so annoying that after almost a year, I gave in.

The first time he took me out, he brought flowers for my mom and me. She loved it. The date was really romantic. He took me to his family yacht, and we had a candlelight dinner. This was not what I expected, and I thought maybe he was a little sweet under the arrogant shell. When he walked me to my door, I let him kiss me. On a scale of one to ten, it was a five. I was disappointed.

I figured he must have felt the same way about the lack of sparks, but that was not the case. He started sending more gifts, and I kept telling him to stop. There was no way to tell what he would pull out next; flowers, jewelry, Chanel perfume, and other expensive items. It was inappropriate, and it was way over the top. After a few months, I started dating him full-time despite my apprehension. He treated me like a queen for a while, but then he started casually putting me down.

I should wear less prim clothing, he told me. My clothing was far from it. I had gotten good at designing and upcycling. People complimented my outfits all the time, so I knew I was on the right track. Then a few months in, he talked me into sleeping with him, which was a huge mistake. For a guy who bragged about his conquests, I thought he would be a professional or something. Once again, it was terrible, and he acted like he was the king of the world. I was not getting the hype about sex at all; it was like a bad vacation. The ride there was a blast, along with the adrenaline of the destination, but you end up at the roach-infested motel when everywhere else is booked.

For some reason, I can’t fathom why I kept dating him, and we did it again, with the same result. He walked away happy while I wondered why I bothered shaving my legs. When I told him it was not working for me, he got mad, extremely offended, and we broke up. I lost no sleep over it, nor did it upset me until he got nasty with me. He would come to my job, rack up huge bills but leave no tip. His friends would call me horrible names like frigid, prude, and other sexually degrading things constantly.

The last time my manager heard what they were saying and wouldn’t let me wait on them anymore. I was so relieved because I didn’t want to make waves and get fired. With their fun doused, they stopped showing up after several more attempts at getting me. The harassment ramped up at school instead, and I was afraid to complain, not wanting my parents’ job to be in jeopardy. So, I kept my head up and just worked hard, trying to ignore them.

It was a month after the breakup when my period did not arrive. I thought stress was throwing off my cycle, so I wasn’t concerned until this month. Now I was sitting in a bathroom in a ball on the floor staring at a pregnancy test. I was stuck with this man in my life forever as the result of bad sex. There was no way I was ever doing it again. I wondered how many other women this happened to. Other girls told me of their happy times, and I just didn’t get it.

I wasn’t a confrontational kind of girl, but I cleaned up my tears and hid the rest of the signs I had been crying. My old car fired right up for once, and I headed to the boatyard where Roland’s yacht was docked. In nice weather, I knew he spent the bulk of his time here. I parked in a lot a good distance from where the boat was and walked over to it. His yacht was one of the huge ones with several levels to it and full living quarters. There was music blasting and the sounds of a party coming from the boat. Great, his friends were probably here too, and they were all jerks.

I breathed through the anxiety I was feeling, got control of my shaking hands, and put on my bravest face. My feet slowly made their way to his dock and towards the ladder that would bring me up. It was weird to think of the romantic, sweet nights we had spent here while he tried to schmooze me. I couldn’t believe he was the same guy anymore, but I should have. In high school, I knew who he was and was mad at myself for ever giving into him. He made me believe he was now a great guy who was charming. I wish I had followed my gut instinct and promised myself I always would from this day forward.

As I climbed the ladder, I saw an entire party was indeed going on and was glad I changed my clothes before coming. Roland was sitting on a bench seat with an arm around a girl on each side of him. The girls were practically naked and fawning over him, yuck. They must not know, yet he isn’t particularly good at doing the dirty. I was beginning to regret coming here and thought maybe I should never tell him. There was still time for me to turn around and leave. It was stupid, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn't tell him. It felt wrong not to tell a person about their child unless it was in special circumstances.

Frozen, Jerk friend with the tattoos called.

Roland glanced up, looking exasperated, Go home, Chelsea. He said it like my name tasted like lemons.

A moment, please, Roland. I will be quick. I was fidgeting but hoping they couldn’t see how scared I was.

Maybe she defrosted, bro, Jerk friend with dark hair added.

Are you done with it, man? I could heat her up, tattoo jerk said, coming my way. I started to shrink backward. They were terrifying me as usual.

We are through, Chelsea. I already told you that. Now, go, he replied in a warning tone. He turned and started making out with one of his pieces of arm candy.

On the inside, my blood was boiling because I had broken up with him. He begged me to stay with him until I told him in no uncertain terms we were done. Then he started being an asshole. It was catcalling from cars when he and his friends drove by me. I would get randomly shoved at school, dropping my books and papers everywhere. If I tried eating in the cafeteria, my tray would mysteriously get bumped, tossing my food to the floor. There were notes left on my car with drawings of ice-related things.

One minute, Roland. That’s it, I asserted to the best of my ability. He ignored me. His friends started closing in, and the tattoo guy started to rub my shoulder.

I shook his hand off, but he wouldn’t stop, and I saw Roland bolt up out of his seat. He shoved his friends out of the way and got in my face, What?! There’s no way that was jealousy, but it sure looked like it.

My eyes were tearing up even though I was fighting it. I hated that. In private, please, I replied softly, and his eyes softened a little.

Then he glanced around and decided being cool was way more important, Nothing you can’t say here, princess.

I’m pregnant, I whispered because he was still in my face.

That’s too bad. Go find the dad. You ain’t working me for any more money, he announced loudly.

The tears started falling down my face, and I couldn’t stop them. I never, and I mean ever, took his money. I tried to pay when we went out, but he always refused. Each time he drove, I even offered gas money. It was another reason I didn’t want to date him; I couldn’t afford to keep up in his world.

It’s yours, there’s no one else, and I think you know that, I croaked, losing the battle with my tears.

The fuck I do. Sorry, not the guy, now get out of here, he yelled in my face and shoved me. I almost fell over the side but caught myself at the last second, grabbing a bar for dear life. As I climbed down the ladder, all I saw and heard were laughing and smiling faces. I hated them all.

CHAPTER ONE

I have been back home in Nebraska for the last two years, and I couldn’t be happier. My parents were not as disappointed in me as I thought they would be with my pregnancy. William and Ruth Adair were the absolute best people on the planet as far as I was concerned. They took to being the greatest grandparents like a fish to water. The love they gave my boy Hawkson was only comparable to the love I had for him. It helped them a lot since they never saw my sister Candace’s kids, and I knew they were sad about it.

After telling Roland I was pregnant, the harassment intensified at school, so I had to quit. There were several incidents like abortion pamphlets left on my car, my tires were slashed more than once, and threatening calls had been made on my parents’ landline. They even went the old fashion route by throwing a brick through our front window with a nasty message on it. One night the police showed up at our door because someone called in to say I was a prostitute propositioning men in town. I was not one to give in to temper, but I wanted to kill them.

When I was nine months pregnant, I was driving and realized my brakes were not working. My heart was beating rapidly, and I was glad I wasn’t on a highway, but I was approaching a downhill curve in the road, and I had no way to stop. I took my foot off the gas, trying to coast down but needed the car to stop because there was a huge curve in the road coming up, so I ran my poor car against the guard rail. The sound of the metal crushing against metal pierced my ears, but I kept against it. It slowed me just enough to pull the emergency brake, but I still hit a tree. This was the straw that broke the camel's back.

My parents met me at the hospital and told me we were going back home. Dad wanted to shoot the guy because, let’s be honest, I wasn’t a girl to make enemies. It could only be one person doing this. Most people said I was such a ray of sunshine or called me smiley. I offered to leave on my own because they were finally doing well, and they already sacrificed so much for me. There was also the excellent health insurance for Dad to think about. What if he needed it again?

Not a chance. You are a wonderful, beautiful human. No one should treat you this way. The police should be doing more. We are going, Dad said, in a way one did not argue with.

It only took them two weeks to get us packed up, and we left no forwarding address. My aunt let us do a lot under her name so that we couldn’t be found easily anymore. They both got new jobs; Mom at a local elementary school and Dad found work with a guy I had known since childhood, Grady, working on his farm. We found a super affordable place and barely settled in three days before my water broke.

I was in labor forty-eight hours and was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. My mom was my warrior, there every step of the way. She helped me with the early days of hourly feedings and being up all night. The woman was my personal hero, and I just wanted to make her proud of me. We sold our old cars and temporarily shared two vehicles while we got into a new routine.

It took me two years to finally save up enough for me and Hawk to get out of our own small house that I rented. The place had two bedrooms and an open floor plan, so it felt bigger than it was. I worked nights so my mom could watch Hawk, and I went to school in the summer since she was off. My degree was going to take fifteen years at this rate, but I didn’t care because I was not giving up. My landlord grew up with my parents, so I got a huge discount on the place and did some clothing designs for his wife.

Today I was on my way to drop Hawk off at my parent’s house and head off to work after. I got this old car for a few hundred bucks with the small amount of insurance money I got from the last one. It was crap, but it got me from point A to B. No one said anything about it because people here didn’t judge. I loved that because I didn’t either. I never drove over the speed limit when Hawk was in the car, but today, I was in a hurry, so I was going a bit over it.

I stopped at a light, and the car started shaking. Shit. My parent’s house was only five more minutes away, and I knew Mom would let me use her car, so I persevered. But as I hit the gas, the car started to go, then slowed, took off, then slowed. No, no, no, I thought, banging my hands on the steering wheel. Hawk was babbling in the back, giggling, and having a great time amidst my frustration.

Buddy, this isn’t good. Mommy has no reception, I told him. It was probably because I had a phone six versions old. I hit the gas again, it took off like a light, and I breathed a too soon relieving breath because it slowed down to fifteen miles per hour right down to five.

I pulled over on the country road as far over as I could. It was dumb because I knew it was probably a sensor that went out, but I still got out, popping the hood. I needed to look without getting dirty because I had on a long pencil skirt, sparkly platform sandals, and a shiny top with one strap over my left shoulder. It was cute. All my designs were, of course, and I wanted to show the girls at work my latest one. I was not dressed to be a mechanic today.

Since we didn’t have a lot of money, Dad did a lot of the work on our vehicles. We only took them to a shop when the repairs needed exceeded my father’s skill set. He taught me to change my tires, oil, and how to do my tune-up. We didn’t have the needed items to replace a sensor at this time.

As I stood there under the open hood staring at the engine, a tow truck pulled over in front of me. A large man got out of the driver's seat and walked over to me. I looked up at him. He had a scar going down one side of his face, dark hair cut close to his head, bright hazel eyes, fantastic lips, and a broad chest that had fabulous, powerful arms attached to it. I knew this because the t-shirt he was wearing was struggling to cover those parts of him. He was a little scary, too, because he did not have a readable face. The movie Adventures in Babysitting flashed through my mind, and I looked for a hook hand.

He looked me in the eyes, did a head-to-toe perusal of me, and I saw him swallow hard. His eyes blinked, and he turned to the car, Broke down?

Not exactly. I think a sensor is going, I added, so he wouldn’t think I knew next to nothing about cars. Men were always looking for ways to take advantage, so I tried to fake my way through conversations with them at times. I drove a lot of crappy cars, so I knew what the symptoms of a bad part were.

He nodded, Shaking? Trouble accelerating?

Yeah, I agreed. Hawk started screaming in the back seat. Sorry, my boy. I have to get him.

I pulled Hawk from the back, and he stopped screaming and went back to babbling. The man was still poking around under the hood as I came around the car on the passenger side. I’ll bring it in. He dusted off his hands, shut the hood, and started heading for his truck.

Bring it where? I called to him, trying to catch up.

He turned and pointed to his truck, My shop. On the side, it said Ace’s Garage, which I figured must be the shop in question.

Are you Ace? I asked.

Yeah, or Dimitri. Most people just call me Ace, he introduced, kind of smiling and holding out his hand.

To tell the truth, the man had a resting guy bitch face if that was a thing, but when he was smiling, as small as it was, it was heart-stopping. His voice was total ear porn, and you could tell he was a quiet guy, which was a waste with a voice like that. I realized I was staring, and he was still holding out his hand, scanning my face. Sorry, Chelsea Adair, I finally got out, shaking his large hand with my tiny one. Oh, and this is Hawk. Say hi, baby. Hawk waved his hand up and down. Ace’s smile grew wide at that.

You two ride with me, and we will get the car to the shop. Load up before I hook your car up. He started heading back to his truck to pull things out of the back.

This is kind of embarrassing, but I don’t know if I can afford your shop. So maybe I should call around and price out sensors first. How much do you charge so I can compare? Maybe you could just give me a ride to an area where I have reception. I rambled.

No. Get your stuff, get in the truck.

But.

No charge, get in. You can call your husband from the truck. I have reception. He went back to pulling things out of his truck.

No, husband, I said softly, going to the car to pull out my things.

I got in the truck with Hawk tucked on my lap because tow trucks did not have a proper place for a car seat. He got in and backed the truck up to my car without saying anything, then hopped back out. It took him less than five minutes to have us hooked up and on our way. Hawk was tightly cradled against me during the short ride, and I was happy his garage was really close.

We pulled up in front of the building, and I was surprised. The building was red, with checkered flag letters spelling out Ace’s Garage. It was classy looking, and that was a surprise. Usually, garages in the country had broken down cars everywhere on a gravel parking lot. Instead, there was a beautifully paved parking lot, and the outside looked organized. There were no stacks of tires or dead cars sitting around. He got out, came around the truck, and opened my door.

Without saying a word, he held out his arms to take Hawk. I presumed so that I could get down. The odd part was Hawk put out his chubby baby arms at him, and my kid didn’t like being handed to strangers. I trusted my boy on this and gave him to Dimitri. My boy babbled, looking up at him and pounding on his chest.

Dimitri smiled at him, I know, kid, I’ll get it done. Gah, the man smiling made him so damn good-looking.

I got down, grabbing my purse and Hawk’s bag of goodies. He started walking to the door chatting to my boy, so I followed them in. His hand pointed to some comfy chairs that surrounded a clean rug off to the right, Sit.

Well, okay, he was a man of few words, but it didn’t matter since the message got conveyed. I sat down, putting our things on a chair, and held my arms out. He handed Hawk to me and walked off. Outside the window, I saw him backing my car up to one of the eight garage bays. I pulled out toys and snacks after settling Hawk into a chair next to me.

My phone finally showed reception bars, so I called my mom, Hey, Mom.

Honey, where are you?

My car had issues, and a tow truck got us back to Ace’s Garage. I am waiting to see how long it will be, I told her.

Oh no, we have to get you in a better car.

Hawk started screaming because his stuffed bear fell on the ground. Mom, Mom, but I knew she couldn’t hear me over the crying. Even after I put the bear back in his arms, he kept crying, jeez.

Dimitri came back in as I was trying to soothe him and talk to my mom, Mom, sorry. Bear emergency. He picked a screaming Hawk back up, and instantly he stopped crying. I mouthed thank you to him, and he nodded. Mom, I may need your car, but I’ll call you back.

Okay, dear, let me know. We can come there to get Hawk. We hung up after making a few alternative plans.

Dimitri was at the counter playing with Hawk as he talked to the kid behind the counter. The bell over the door jingled, and I turned around. A tall, lean guy with dirty blond hair walked in. He looked from me to Dimitri and back again.

Damn Ace, you've been hiding a kid? He asked with a smile, and this man just emitted trouble.

I giggled when Ace’s face went pale because my kid did look more like him than me. My hair was blonde, my eyes light brown, and my kid had dark hair and eyes like Ace. They even kind of had the same haircut at the moment.

No, I’m helping, was all he said and continued his conversation with the kid behind the desk.

Must be yours then. Hi, I’m Gage, Ace’s friend, he said, holding out a hand.

Chelsea Adair, and that is my son Hawk, I returned, shaking his hand and nodding at my son.

Very nice to meet you. Here for repairs?

Yeah, my stupid car wasn’t running right, and Dimitri was kind enough to give us a ride.

Gage raised his brows, Well, you need a ride somewhere, sweetheart? Ace whipped his head around, nodding in a no gesture and snapping his fingers at Gage. Gage ignored him, I can take you anywhere you need to go while Dimitri takes care of the car.

Ace stopped talking and turned to us, No, loaner. I’m sure your woman at home would prefer you not take other women around.

How much is a loaner? I asked, ignoring the rest because I could not afford a rental.

He sighed like it was a dumb question. It wasn’t. I was poor, Nothing.

You can’t fix my car and give me a loaner for free. No one does that, I protested, kind of loud. He would probably expect something in return like I had learned several times from men.

He hit his chest with a thumb, I do.

The bell rang again. This must be a really busy place. Another gorgeous man walked in tall, dark-haired, and also had a finely muscled torso. He was not my type but still not hard on my eyes.

Hey, he called to Ace, eyeing Hawk with curiosity.

Yeah, Ace replied and continued playing with Hawk.

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