Peyton's Path: Fickle Fate: Book 3 Read online

  Peyton's Path

  Fickle Fate Book 3

  S.M. Olivier

  Independently Published

  Copyright © 2021 S.M. Olivier

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited. No part of this book can be reproduced in any form, or by electronic means or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Any trademark, service marks, product names, or names featured are assumed to be their respective owners’ property and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if we use one of these terms.

  Edited by: Jenifer Knox

  Cover by: Jenifer Knox

  Synopsis

  After my return, I hadn’t realized how many people would assume they had a right to invade my private life. Now I struggle with nightmares and anxiety, and I have to constantly be shadowed to ensure my safety. To make matters worse, people from the past, both mine and the guys’, make an appearance back into our lives, stirring up an old history of hurt. They think they have a right to, after abandoning us like yesterday’s trash. I just wish they’d become history again and stay that way.

  Not all is bad, though. My relationship with the guys is stronger than ever. I still have my escape with dance. Plus, an opportunity I thought long passed comes knocking on my door once more. I’m getting better, and more importantly, I’m not alone.

  But I know how fickle fate can be. Just when you’re finally catching your breath, fate steps up behind you to throw you back into the fire, whether you’re ready or not.

  Well, I’ve got news for fate: the fire just makes me stronger.

  Fickle Fate is the next installment in the Peyton’s Path series.

  Dedication

  This is for all the teachers who have inspired their students to paint stories with their words. Ms. Chaffee and Ms. Woodward, you made an impact on my life. Thank you!

  1

  ●

  The New Norm

  “Can you hand me that 3/16 socket?” I asked Crew.

  He wordlessly handed me the socket, and I attached it to my ratchet.

  “Thanks,” I murmured as I tightened the nut back onto the frame of my bike.

  Today, Crew had skipped school and stayed home with me. It had been one week and four days since my return, but who’s counting? Just kidding, I was. There wasn’t a day since my return that one of them hadn’t stayed home with me.

  Grandpa tried to convince me to move in with him during my recovery, but his house was already full of “mending” people. Plus, I still couldn’t face Ava knowing what I knew now. She had given Coach, Principal Boyd, and Tormentor the hair-brained idea to take me. Sure, they didn’t and shouldn’t have listened to her, but she was insane enough to provide them with the suggestion.

  Crew, Golden, and Kyler were furious that she might not face any jail time. Currently, she was staying at a glorified mental health facility. Her doctors didn’t think she was mentally capable of handling any jail time, especially since she denied collaborating with my abductors.

  Since Coach was the only person caught, he maintained that Principal Boyd had abducted me and that Tormentor was never there. He also insisted that Ava never knew about our existence. The prosecutors may not be charging her, but Grandpa did have her in counseling. I guessed that was something.

  The state had awarded temporary custody to Grandpa in the meantime. It had been proven that Chastity and Charity didn’t share the same DNA as Ava or Grandpa. However, since they were considered siblings of Gideon and Honor, and Grandpa had the means to support them, they would remain in his care. If Ava was ever released, she would still have to go through parenting classes and reunification therapy with her children.

  They were still trying to determine where the twins’ mother went. Ava informed the authorities that their mother was Violet. She told them that Violet had a relationship with Coach and Principal Boyd of her own volition. But the DNA, of course, contradicted her claim.

  According to her, Violet had left shortly after the twins were born because she no longer wanted to be with the men. I told the authorities what I had been told. According to Aaron, his mother had died giving birth to the twins.

  He led me to believe that she had been buried in the back. A search had been conducted, and no bodies of a young woman surfaced. In addition, there had been no missing reports filed on a redheaded woman by the name of Violet in the past ten years. This was the period between Ava running away and now.

  “Jump on,” Crew bade me as he finished securing my new tire in place.

  Kyler, Crew, and I had spent hours working on my bike. Luckily, my new fuel pump and tires came in yesterday afternoon so that we could install them today. The guys and I were going to take a road trip today when the other guys got off school and work. We were heading up to Da’s shop.

  The shop might’ve no longer participated in the business’ reality television part, but Da’s shop was still up and running. I was kind of surprised and shocked to realize that the guys inherited the business. They had a business manager and long-time friend still running the very lucrative business, enabling them to still collect from it with little-to-no hand in it.

  I jumped on my bike and whooped in happiness when it roared to life. “Let’s take a ride,” I said excitedly.

  Crew grinned at me and placed a quick kiss on my lips. “Put on something warmer.”

  He had become so bossy since my return. I didn’t take offense to it. They all seemed to be protective of me since I returned. And I knew why. They would never know fully what I had gone through, but they had suffered their own fears and worries in my absence.

  Physically, I was almost one hundred percent back to normal. I became exhausted a lot faster than I wanted to, but it was a start. I even started dancing again, at home, just the other day. It had been almost five days since I hadn’t needed a nap or two to get through the day.

  I still woke up in the middle of the night in cold sweats, expecting to wake up in that wooden box. It took me several moments to remind myself of where I was and that I was safe. Relatively. But I didn’t think I could get through a night without one of the guys by my side.

  “I’ll be right back!” I crowed before opening the door.

  For the last twelve days, Crew, Kyler, and Zane had moved in with the Isaacs. We didn’t want to be separated, and the house had more than enough room for all of us. It was a huge plus that none of the vultures, reporters, had been able to come in contact with us yet. It seemed every media network wanted an exclusive interview with me, but there wasn’t even the smallest part of me that desired to do so. I wanted—no, I needed—my privacy.

  I had been heralded as a hero, but I didn’t feel like one. I survived a horrible ordeal and was able to help my cousins and half-sister, but that didn’t make me a hero. I was a survivor if anything.

  The guys had to field a lot of people and visitors. On the third day of harassment, Lochlann had a company come in and install a gate at the mouth of the driveway. I didn’t want to talk to the media, and I had kept who I wanted to see− outside of my immediate family− to a very limited number.

  The only person outside of my family I had seen was Renee, Mr. Jenkins, and Anya. I didn’t want to see anyone else. I didn’t even want Lucas’ company until tonight. He was going to meet the guys, the kids, Renee, and me at an empty rental that Mam and Da had owned near the shop.

  The person who surprised me the most out of
this whole ordeal was David. He was here nearly every other day. All of a sudden he wanted to get to know me. He wanted to repair a barely salvageable relationship. If he hadn’t dropped out of the race for mayor and hadn’t seemed to mean so much to Grandpa, I would have told him to beat feet.

  As it was, he had come to visit me five times since my return, and I reluctantly had to admit our blood tie was strong. I even seemed to have picked up a few of his mannerisms and “likes,” despite the fact he hadn’t raised me.

  In my eyes, I thought his only redeeming quality was the fact he hadn’t tried to buy my affections; he genuinely seemed to want to get to know me. Despite the fact that Catherine, my stepmother−kind of, sort of? What do you call the woman who was your biological father’s wife?−seemed angry and upset that David was trying to build a relationship with me.

  I quickly changed into a Henley, jeans, riding boots, and a leather jacket. Admittedly, it was a little too chilly for any sane person to ride a bike this time of year, but I’d never claimed I was sane, especially as of late. The new heated seat and grips that the guys had purchased and installed played a significant factor in my decision to ride despite the weather.

  Right before I left my room, I grabbed a thicker scarf. Scarves were a daily accessory, except when I slept. The ugly scarring around my neck, where the prongs and collar had tug into my flesh, was still very noticeable. The guys tried to convince me otherwise. However, the scars on both my neck and arms were a daily reminder of what I had been through. I despised that reminder.

  Crew was waiting for me right outside my side door with both bikes. I didn’t even think I had been gone that long.

  His bike had needed a little repair work done to it as well, so we had worked on my bike and his. His was a beast in size and could go a lot faster than mine, but I still loved my bike. The gift from the guys had been one of the most thoughtful ones I had ever received. In fact, my whole last birthday was what Hallmark movies were made of. Too bad it was followed by what Lifetime movies were made of.

  “Where to?” He smiled at me as I took my helmet from his hands.

  “Anywhere.” I smiled in return before slipping my helmet into place.

  I started the bike and smiled wider when I heard it rumble to life. The vibration between my thighs was a foreign feeling. I wouldn’t have thought a whole month of not riding could affect me so much.

  Crew darted forward on his bike, and I followed. I was still smiling, so hard my face hurt. I almost forgot how good it felt to smile without the burden of my ordeal hovering over my head like a dark cloud. Even the fact that we were being followed couldn’t dash away my euphoric feeling.

  My Shadows weren’t going away anytime soon. Despite all my protests and the fact that this was technically the first time I even bothered leaving the property, I knew they were an unnecessary “evil.”

  Cooper− Coop− and Salvatore− Sal− were my newly appointed bodyguards. I may not have wanted them here, but I knew they were there to stay. Grandpa and David insisted they remain with or near me at all times. They had become my shadows over a week ago, and we had come to, somewhat, of an understanding.

  They stayed out of sight, though, and I made sure they got three meals a day. I even refrained from binge-watching reality television that they weren’t crazy about, like Dance Moms and the teenage pregnancy shows. I knew those shows were over-the-top dramatic, mind-numbing, and brain fodder, but since I had very little to do during the days after my schoolwork was complete, plus napping and cooking, I needed something to keep the dark thoughts away.

  Crew turned left, so I did as well. He seemed to understand my need for speed, because he opened his bike up. I realized he was holding back when he got the tach up to one hundred. I knew my Harley Sporster could go faster, and he could definitely go quicker, but this was a comfortable speed to cruise.

  I could hear Soop− the blended moniker I had given Sal and Coop− honking at us. I knew they were trying to make us slow down; I had no desire to, though. We weren’t harming anyone.

  We were on the back roads, and almost everyone that traveled this long stretch of secluded road were locals. Most of whom were either at work or school, so my usual caution was thrown out the window. We weren’t a danger to anyone but ourselves. In fact, this was doing wonders for my emotional and mental health. The feeling of flying and watching the trees and blacktop whiz by was damn near euphoric. I laughed, my wild laughter ringing in my ears, and rolled the throttle forward.

  I looked in my mirrors and noticed Coop yelling at us, while Sal laughed like he was highly amused. If they were both books to judge their covers by, I would assume Coop would be a mellow, laid-back guy. He had an open, friendly face. He was slightly above average height. He was fit, given his profession and past military experience. He had sandy blond hair that had cowlicks, both in the front and back, that couldn’t be tamed no matter how much product he probably put in it. His eyes were a calming, gray.

  His partner, Salvatore, was nearly as tall and big as Crew and Kyler. He had a face made of granite. His hair was dark brown, almost black, his skin a dark bronze color, and his eyes matched his very dark hair. He looked like he could eat nails for breakfast and crush glass cups with a clench of his meaty fist.

  So, looking at both of them, you would assume Cooper was friendly, outgoing, and free-spirited, and Sal stoic, intense, and stiff. It was far from the truth. Cooper was severe, too stern at times, and Sal seemed to handle life with laughter.

  Crew continued making our turns and leading me to some of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen. I had done a little sightseeing in my new home since arriving, and Crew seemed to know that.

  We were riding for a good hour before he began to slow. He indicated that we were turning, and I saw our destination up ahead. It looked like a little podunk diner, with advertised homemade meals on the marquee.

  From my experience, their version of homemade was thawed meals made weeks− sometimes months− in advance. Sometimes they bought their menu items from a can or prepackaged, adding a few of their own “fresh” ingredients, attempting to pass them off as homemade meals.

  Crew parked his bike first, and I parked mine right beside his. I climbed off and immediately noticed the phantom shaking in my limbs. It felt like my whole body was vibrating still, and I loved it!

  I promptly embraced Crew. “That was freakin’ amazing!” I laughed.

  He chuckled and embraced me back. “It really was. I forgot how much I missed riding. I’m thrilled you convinced me to troubleshoot my baby. Now, let’s go in and get some grub.”

  He paused as if a thought had just occurred to him and pulled out his phone. His fingers flew over the keyboard before he stuffed it back into his pocket. I had to stifle a laugh. He was never big on words, verbally or technology-wise.

  He led me towards the trailer-like diner. I scrunched up my nose, knowing this could go one of two ways: they would have really fantastic food, or they’d have barely-edible food.

  “I know it doesn’t look like much,” Crew said, interpreting my look. “But the food here is amazing. I know we already had breakfast, but their potato pancakes and corned beef hash are my favorite. If you want lunch, their burgers are fresh and attract people all over the state. Whatever the season, the beef is addictive. And their shakes! Their shakes are all freshly made with ice cream to order, not any of that liquid machine crap.”

  I laughed. Crew and Paxton ate like any typical teenage boy. The amount of food they could put away was sickening at times. My appetite was finally returning after nearly two weeks of picking at my food like a damn bird because my stomach was too weak and had shrunk down immensely.

  “I’m hankering for a burger,” I said with a decisive nod. “However, the shake will have to wait until after a few cups of coffee.”

  Now that my butt was off my heated seats, and my leather gloves weren’t gripping my new heated grips, the autumn air was seeping into my skin. I had only put on fo
ur pounds since my return, so I was at least fifteen pounds under my ideal weight. It was surprising what those extra pounds could do in the way of natural insulation.

  “You’re cold.” He frowned, and I knew he was blaming himself.

  “Stop,” I gently admonished him. “I’m having fun and I’ll warm up.”

  “Maybe we can get Ky to pick us up after we eat,” he suggested.

  I shook my head adamantly and grasped both of his hands. “Please,” I pleaded softly. “Don’t take this away from me.”

  He must have understood the words I was unwilling to speak. I didn’t need to remind him that I felt like I was constantly in a vast ocean. Sometimes I floated along and went through the motions of life. The guys would float by and try to throw me a lifeline, and sometimes I nearly forgot that there was no land in sight. Other times, I felt as if I were being dragged beneath a strong undertow. The kind of undertow that filled my lungs with salty water and threatened to choke any life left in me. It was rare that I felt like I was riding the waves and basking in the adrenaline of a successful ride.

  He nodded and pulled me towards the diner. “Let’s get some coffee.”

  I knew his natural instincts were to protect me and insist that we call Kyler to come to pick us up with his truck. However, the other part of him recognized that indulging me was beneficial to my mental and emotional health. There were very few things that excited me nowadays, and this was one of them.

  I wasn’t completely ignorant of my mental fractures. I recognized them. I just didn’t know how to make things “better.” I had stared a thousand times at the card Dr. Bryce Baylor had given me two weeks ago. I just hadn’t attempted making a call to the therapist he’d recommended to me.

  The guys encouraged me. Lochlann tried to use his training on me. I was just too afraid to speak about what happened to me. After my initial interview with the FBI, I was reluctant to say anything. I hated reliving the most terrifying and painful part of my life. It was bad enough that nearly every other breath I inhaled was accompanied by a memory I wished I could lock away for the rest of my life.