Fire and Ice: Rekindled (The Fire and Ice Series Book 2)
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Authors: Kiara Delaney
Fire and Ice
Rekindled
Kiara Delaney
Copyright © 2015 by Kiara Delaney
All rights reserved.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,
and incidents are products of the author's imagination and any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Characters, views, and opinions depicted do not necessarily
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Dedicated to Joe Kline.
You will be missed...
"We're all going to die, so it might as well be
love that destroys us."
-Jonny Ox
Kellan
Hailey shifted nervously, biting her lip. The same soft,
pink lips I had traced with my tongue dozens upon dozens of times. It was my
queue to leave, before I got sucked in even further. Without acknowledging her,
I turned and walked quickly out of the building, as I lit up a smoke to calm my
nerves, making my way towards my car.
Before I could get my hands on the car door handle, the
bar's back door wrenched open, and Hailey bolted out, running towards me,
stopping just inches in front of me, her breathing kicked up a notch from the
short jaunt. She breathed out, "Wait, Kellan...I don't want you to
go..." she paused before continuing, "Like this. I mean, I don't want
things to be like this between us," she stammered out, her eyes pleading
with me.
My mind was telling me to run like hell, as far and as fast
away from her as I could get. But she had my goddamn body on overdrive. I don't
know if it was the events of the day, my longing for her that I'd tried to bury
for so long, or her proximity, but I couldn't take another fucking minute
without tasting her.
I tossed my smoke, and in one smooth move, I grabbed her
face with both hands and crushed her lips to mine, forcing them open with my
tongue, and delving deep inside. She moaned low, going limp in my arms before
she wrapped her arms around my neck, threading her hands in my hair, and
digging her nails into my scalp. Our tongues tangled together in deep
exploration, desperate for each other, as we both fought for air. The kiss was
rough, urgent, and I ended it quickly, abruptly tearing my lips from hers to
peer into her hazy eyes as I said, "You made your bed. Now you have to lie
in it."
Kellan
Jim Carrington. There's a name I thought I'd never hear
again. When I left Chambers three years ago, I left in a hurry, and didn't plan
on ever looking back. Every memory I left behind in that God forsaken town was
painful and putrid. Being in that town was drowning me, and nearly ate me up
alive. My last hours in Chambers had me questioning my sanity, and were driving
me to my brink. I had to get out while I still had some semblance of my mind
left intact.
The best laid plans...
Jim was a good guy, and I left him hanging, but I had to do
what was best for me. I was a selfish prick back then, and not much has changed
since I've moved to Reno, other than I've managed to get my degree in business,
a semester early to boot, and I'm managing an upscale nightclub, which is
affording me the opportunity to learn the skills I'll need to open my own place...soon
I hope.
Getting out of the familiar scenery brought me back to true
North. I'd forgotten the man I was deep down. Caring and sharing weren't my
thing, and it was for a damn good reason- it got me fucking nowhere. And when
I'd gotten the call about the funeral, I desperately wanted to shrug it off and
say, "Why should I care?"
The selfish prick perched on my shoulder is trying to
convince me that I shouldn't. Like an ice pick, he's trying to drive into my
mind what I already know to be true. Caring doesn't amount to shit; doesn't get
you shit, and leaves you looking like a moron when you realize it was all for
naught.
Now, contradictory to standing logic, there's an
extraordinary amount to be gained by being an exceptional asshole. Believe me,
I've been on the path to enlightenment for some time now, so I think I've rid
myself of the 'caring' bug, and being an asshole is like an inherent trait for
me.
Caring didn't stop my mother from dying of cancer. Begging
and praying to God day after day, as she wilted away in front of me, didn't
stop her from dying. Her caring about me, and making my father promise her on
her deathbed to take
care
of me,
didn't make him give two shits in the end. What did I get for caring about my
asshole father while he slowly tried to drink himself into a coma? I got my ass
beat for asking him when he'd be home, so I could have dinner warm for the
miserable fuck!
"You? Cook dinner? What the fuck are you gonna make for
dinner? Cornflakes? Stupid kid. I bet your precious Mommy never even taught you
how to fry a goddamn egg...lazy bitch. I'll be home when I'm good and goddamn
ready. You listenin' to me you little faggot?"
Oh, yeah...Chuck was a real gem. I was twelve fucking years
old! Of course I knew how to fry a fucking egg. And don't think for a second I
didn't consider proving it to him and spicing it up with some spit.
The only thing Chuck cared
about was getting shitfaced and letting off some steam while he
was on his benders by beating the shit out me. God forbid I ask, "Hey Dad,
where you been all night?"
"You're
a nosy little shit. You got some mouth on you, kid."
...
Caught a beating.
"Hey Dad, can I go with Jordan to the skate park?"
"You
sure do like hangin' around with that little homo, don't you? You a homo,
boy?"...
Caught a beating.
"Ain't
you got nothin' better to do than watch TV, runnin' up my electric bill? You
think money grows on trees, ya little lazy shit?"...
Caught
a beating.
"You know, I swear to Christ, sometimes I think you
ain't even my kid."
(Jesus, I wish.)
"Maybe your mother was fuckin' the mailman."
"Don't you ever talk about Mom like that!"
"You should see your face...bet your real daddy's been
walkin' past this door every day hopin' you wasn't his kid.
"
"Shut up, Dad. You're drunk."
"Whadyou call me, you little shithead? You callin' me a
drunk?"
"I didn't call you anything, Dad."
"So now I'm a deaf drunk, huh? You think I'm stupid,
Shit For Brains?"
"I never said you were stupid... Dad, just go to
bed."
"You don't tell me what to do in my own house, you
stupid little bastard. I'll beat your goddamn brains in, you little
sonofabitch!"
"Don't you fucking touch me...I swear to God!"
"Ho, ho...big talk, little man. Whatchya gonna
do?...That's what I thought...nothing. You don't have the balls."
"Shut up, Chuck."
"C'mere...let me check under your skirt an' see if you
got any balls, Daisy."
"Chuck, get the fuck off me, man!"
"Let's see if you can take your old man, kid? Whatdya
say? I'll give you the first punch, you pussy."
One punch. That's all Chuck needed. While the fucker writhed
around in his own blood, curled up on the kitchen floor with a broken nose, and
a mouthful of cracked teeth, I didn't even bother to revel in his misery. You
better believe I kicked the dickhead while he was down, too, before I stepped
over his fetus-like form, slamming the door behind me, as I left the prison I'd
been captive in for the first fifteen years of my life, flipping it,
and
him
off as I walked backwards down the sidewalk. Fuckin' right I did. Why? Because
I didn't have a fucking
care
in the
world once that blow had landed Chuck square in the face. I kept walking and
never went back. Chuck sure as hell never bothered to look for me.
Despite my troubled youth, and lack of empathy for those
around me, there
were
people who
cared about me while I lived in Chambers, regardless of the fact that I rarely
returned the favor.
Jordan and his parents helped me get on my feet, and Jim
gave me a job washing dishes at the bar when I turned sixteen. I hated sponging
off Jordan's parents, so I usually ate at work, and even though Jim said I was
allowed to have one meal per shift for free, I always stuffed five bucks in
Gail's apron when she wasn't looking. She'd covered more than one speeding
ticket for me over the years, and even paid my fine to get me out of juvie when
I got hauled in once, so I figured slipping the five bucks a day into Gail's
apron somehow put me in the black with the balance sheet of justice.
Favors I could handle, but I didn't do handouts. Owing
others wasn't my thing. The only things I did
care
about were getting the respect I felt I deserved, and earning
enough cash to get the fuck out of Chambers.
But then Hailey happened. Jordan and Hailey
happened...Hailey and I happened. And yeah, I cared for her. Shit, I thought I
loved her. But in the end, Jordan and I both paid the price for caring about
her.
So why am I headed back to the town that I spent half of my
life trying to get out of, and the last three years trying to divest my system
of? I can think of only one reason...I'm a glutton for punishment.
Kellan
After I'd checked into the small, but sufficient local
hotel, depositing my duffle bag with a couple of days worth of everyday
clothing, and a hanging bag containing my suit for the funeral, I decided to
head over to the bar and visit my old haunt; mainly out of respect.
I was still driving my sleek, black Camaro, and she was
still in pristine condition. She was the one gal that I could always count on
to never let me down, and I treated her like a princess.
Princess.
As I pulled to a smooth stop outside of the familiar bar, an
eerie feeling overtook my senses at the thought of entering the place. The
place that was basically a second home to me for so long, I had lost track.
There was no way I could even begin to imagine the amount of time I'd put in
here. So many memories came flooding back to my mind, and an unsettling feeling
wrenched in my gut.
The lyrics of Linkin Park's "Easier To Run" flowing
through my speakers had me second guessing my decision to return to the place I
once called home, and I had half a mind to turn the car around, grab my shit,
and blow town for the second time in my life.
Fucking coward
.
I knew
once I entered those doors, half the town would jump on me like the plague. I
wasn't exactly in the mood to catch up, or play twenty questions. I was here
for one reason- to say my final goodbyes, rid myself of my guilty conscience,
and finally move on with my life.
I took a deep cleansing breath, stepped out of my car, and
made my way towards the large double doors gracing the front of the bar,
clutching the handle tightly before wondering, once again, if this was such
good idea. I straightened my shoulders, standing to my full height, and lifted
my head upright as I yanked on the door. Entering the establishment, the
familiar patrons, long since set aside in my mind, whipped their heads to gawk
at me in awe.
An unsettling silence set in before I heard the familiar
terse voice break in. "Holy hell! Ya act like ya never seen him
before," Gail huffed out before hurriedly making her way towards me,
standing on her tip toes to throw her arms around my neck, and whispering into
my ear with a trembling voice, "Thanks for coming, son. It's good to have
you back home." I tentatively returned her embrace, before she continued,
"Come on in the back. We can catch up in privacy." Jesus fuck. This
is exactly what I was trying to avoid. Nevertheless, I trailed behind her,
noticing a new myriad of faces behind the bar that weren't a part of my
checkered past. A small miracle I'd take on a day like today.
As Gail quietly shut the office door behind us and took a
seat at Jim's desk, her eyes glossed over with wetness, as she said,
"Sorry, been a long couple of days. Keep thinking I'm all cried out, then
seeing you here...shit, Kellan." She turned her head away and swiped a
tear that had escaped down her cheek. I honestly didn't know what to say.
Really, what was there to say? Death is final, and words don't bring back the
dead.
I looked at her solemnly as she gathered herself. She wasn't
one to break down, but I could see this was deeply affecting her. I wasn't
really interested in the how or why, but I could see Gail needed to talk about
it. "Gail, if you need to talk about it..." I echoed my mind's
sentiment, as my voice trailed off.
Rather than break down into a slobbering mess, she suddenly
went numb, saying simply, "Not much to tell. He was in the wrong place at
the wrong time. A classic case of a man wanting to be a hero, and getting in
the middle of two guys fighting over a woman," she paused and gave me a
pointed stare before continuing, "One guy pulled a knife, and our '
hero
' took it in the gut. He was gone
before the ambulance got here." Christ. I'm glad I didn't get the gory
details over the phone. I had enough shit on my mind without having had to
endure the ugly thoughts on the long drive back here.
"Jesus, Gail. I'm sorry, I had no idea," I said,
my astonishment evident in my voice. My curiosity got the better of me.
"Tell me you didn't have to witness..." I began to state, before the
office door creaked open.
I didn't have to turn around to see him as he cut in, saying
morosely, "Kellan. It's been a long time."
******