Author: J. Saman
Category: Contemporary
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The Start Again Series
J. Saman
For you, the readers who asked for this series and helped make it happen! Thank you.
* * *
Each of these three books can be read as a complete stand-alone, though to get the full experience, I recommend starting at the beginning.
Contents
START AGAIN
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
START OVER
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Epilogue
START WITH ME
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Epilogue
Other books by J. Saman:
End of Book Note
Touching Sin
Love to Hate Her
START AGAIN
One night. One accident. And her life was forever changed.
* * *
Kate Taylor is searching for a way out.
A fresh start to finally put her haunting past to rest.
Out of options and willing to try just about anything, she sets off on a road trip across the country.
Her destination? Unknown.
That is until she encounters Ryan Grant, the irresistibly sexy and mysterious stranger with a past of his own.
One kiss, one touch and she’s giving into everything she swore she wouldn’t.
Rules are broken.
Attraction is turning to love.
And Kate’s heart is once again on the line.
But when what she’s been running from catches up with her, will Ryan be able to forgive her for the choices she makes?
Text copyright © 2015 by J. Saman
All rights reserved. Except for the use in reviews, the reproduction of utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented including xerography, photocopying, digitally copying or recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system is forbidden without the written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, place and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and resemblance to the actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
* * *
Edited by Gina Johnson
Prologue
“Mommy, Mommy, guess what?” Maggie’s high-pitched squeal fills my ears. Her heavy stomps fly across the hardwood floor until her small body leaps through the air into my waiting arms.
“What, baby?” I ask, kissing her soft, blonde curls and pulling her small warm body into mine. Her hair is the same color as mine, and a little lighter than Eric’s.
“Daddy taking me ice cream,” she effervesces, her hands clapping wildly.
“Oh, is he?” I say, tilting my head, knowing full well Eric can hear me, which his chuckle confirms.
“How could I say no to that face?” He rounds the corner into the kitchen with an amused and indulgent expression.
“See!” More clapping. “He no say no to me.” Maggie is all smiles for her hero.
“Well, aren’t you a lucky girl?” I lean forward and kiss her round soft cheek.
She nods. “Yes. Mommy, you come too?”
I frown. “Oh, baby. I can’t. Mommy has to work tonight.” Maggie’s tiny body slumps in my arms as I adjust her weight so she can see my face. “Next time, okay?”
Her blue eyes sparkle. Same shade as Eric’s, darker than mine. “Okay, Mommy.”
“Hey, noodle bug?” Eric asks Maggie softly as he walks up to us, wrapping his arm around my waist and kissing my temple. “What if we brought Mommy some ice cream at work?” He looks at her sweet, ebullient expression and then back to me.
“Yay!” she yells, bouncing up and down in my arms. “We do that, Mommy?”
I laugh. I just can’t help myself, because you really can’t say no to her. It’s freaking impossible. “That sounds great.”
“Perfect.” Eric kisses my lips quickly before planting a kiss on Maggie’s lips too. “How’d I get so lucky to have two perfect girls?” He means it. “Go to work, babe.” He kisses me again, pulling Maggie out of my arms and into his. “We’ll see you soon with your special treat.” He winks at me. “Love you.”
“Now I’m the lucky one.” I kiss them both. “Love you back.” I throw a wave over my shoulder, and then get my butt in my SUV and off to work.
* * *
The ICU isn’t crowded tonight. In fact, we’re slow. We only have eight patients for twelve beds. “Hey, Kate?” Shannon, the charge nurse for tonight calls out to me as I walk out of my patient’s room. “You need to get down to the ED.”
My brows wrinkle as I walk toward her. “Why? What’s up?” Then I groan. “Am I being floated?”
She’s shaking her head. “No. They didn’t say. Just asked you to come down. Said it was important.”
I laugh. “Oh. It must be Eric and Maggie bringing me my ice cream.”
He always tries to avoid bringing her into the hospital, and sometimes he
parks by the ED because it’s easy for me to get in and get out. Same for him.
“Lucky lady,” she winks. “Go on then. Can’t leave that cutie waiting in the ED.”
“Oh, he won’t bring Maggie in. I’ll have to run out to the car.”
She shakes her head. “I was talking about Eric, but I guess Maggie’s pretty cute too.” Another wink.
“You’re shameless,” I laugh, waving over my shoulder as I head toward the back stairwell. I hate hospital elevators. I avoid them if I can, and since the ICU is only on the fourth floor, I usually take the stairs. The second I open the door to the ED, I pause, and I can’t explain why.
Something feels off. Something feels so very wrong.
It’s nothing visual, more instinctual.
A chill runs up my spine, freezing my blood and taking over my body.
I’m off. Running down the hall and wishing I hadn’t taken the fucking stairs for once because the elevator would have put me on the other side of the ED where the trauma rooms are, instead of by triage. My clogs slap against the linoleum floors as I race down the hall, darting around people as I go.
Sound. Yelling. Orders. Controlled chaos. I hear all of it, but I’m removed from it. Detached. And even though I know why I’m running at full speed, I don’t know why I’m running. My gut is twisting and adrenaline is pulsing in my veins as I burst through the swinging doors of Triage One. Three doctors and four nurses surround the gurney, making it impossible for me to see the patient.
But I know.
I know exactly who it is because I feel her. And then I get a glimpse of her pink light-up sneaker tilted on its side on the floor where it looks like it was thrown.
“Maggie!” I shriek out before I race toward her.
“No. Wait. Kate!” Someone calls to me, stopping my motion mid-stride by wrapping her arms around my waist and pulling me back to the door.
“Let me go.” I fight, still trying to run to my girl. “Maggie,” I call again. “Stop. She needs me.” I’m kicking and pushing, becoming more and more hysterical by the second.
“Calm down, Kate. Let them work.”
I collapse in her arms and onto the floor. Something about the word work did it. They’re working on my little girl. Working a mile a minute and barking out orders that are laced with concern and frustration.
“What happened?” It’s both a whisper and a demand.
“Car accident.” Her hand glides down my back and I sob out, shaking uncontrollably.
“I need to go to her.” I can’t even bring myself to ask the next question. The sensible question. The one that I should be asking, but am unable to form into words to do so. She doesn’t respond, just holds on tight to me.
I have no idea whose arms are around me.
I don’t care.
I can’t pull my eyes off of my little girl’s lifeless body. Off the tube in her mouth breathing for her. Off the central line coming from her femoral artery pumping her full of medicine. Off the chest tube that the doctor is trying to place to re-expand her lung. Off the monitors that are barely indicating signs of life and then…flattens out. Blood, fluid, it’s all going in, but it’s not helping.
Nothing is helping.
My baby is dying in front of me and I can’t do anything to stop it.
Compressions. Defibrillation. I need to look away. I can’t look away. I just…can’t.
“Anything?” someone calls out.
“Nothing,” someone else responds.
“She’s losing it as fast as we can give it.” Another voice. And now I stand. The nurse lets me, but maintains her grip on my arm in case I decide to run at her again. “Her aorta is shredded. We’re not going to get her back.”
“Shut up,” someone snaps, and then all eyes are suddenly on me.
I shake my head.
My baby is going and I need to hold her.
Pushing someone aside, I look at my baby girl’s face for the first time. She doesn’t look like Maggie. Bruised, battered, and bloodied. A large head wound on the opposite side is seeping through the gauze placed over it. Her chest and abdomen are swollen and discolored.
“You have to move, Kate.” A hand is trying to pull me back again.
“Is she gone?” I ask, my voice barely recognizable.
Silence.
I wrap my arms around her small body, pulling her to me. I hear protesting behind me, but it just as quickly stops, and the room falls silent again. The only sound is the alarm of the machine that tells me her heart has stopped.
They shut it off.
“It’s okay, Maggie. Mommy’s here. Mommy’s here,” I cry into her hair, my arms squeezing her small body tight, inhaling her sweet, sugary scent. Running my hands down her sticky, crimson-tinted hair. “Oh, Maggie baby, no.”
I can’t hold it back anymore. I’m rocking her and sobbing, and even though I know she’s gone, I can’t accept it. I can’t accept it.
“Go again!” I yell out at the faces staring at me.
“Kate.” That’s Dr. Philip Turbin. “I’m so sorry.”
“No,” I spit at him. “Go. Again. Philip.”
He shakes his head, walking to me, taking my hand and pressing it over her small chest. She’s not breathing. Why isn’t she breathing? Oh Maggie, breathe for me, baby. Please just breathe for me.
“She’s gone, Kate. I’m sorry.” I’m shaking my head. “Hold your little girl, and say goodbye.”
“I can’t,” I wail, because I can’t. How can someone possibly say goodbye to their baby? To their almost three-year-old? It’s an impossible task. My heart is shredded. Annihilated. So broken that all I feel is searing agony crushing my chest and stealing my breath.
I want to die with her.
Please, God, just kill me with her.
I need her. I need to be with her. She needs her mommy.
I pull Maggie into me, holding her so tight. I know I need to ask. But I can’t. I’m terrified of the answer, even though I think I already know it.
So I say the only word I can choke out, “Eric?”
My eyes leave Maggie at their silence, pulling up to their reluctant, horror-filled faces. Philip steps forward, his hand covering mine that’s still resting on Maggie’s chest.
“He never made it in.” His soft voice is meant to help ease the blow, but it doesn’t. Nothing can.
My head drops onto Maggie’s, and I let my world end with theirs.
1
2 years later
* * *
Kate
* * *
Freshly baked zucchini bread fills the air with the scent of cinnamon and chocolate. It should be comforting, but it’s not. Partially because comfort and I haven’t been on speaking terms for quite a while, and partially because I have the unhappy task of trying to speak to my mother about something important this morning.
Never a pleasant thing.
The couch cushion sinks beneath me as I shift my position to cross my legs, taking my can of Diet Coke with me. I haven’t slept much this week. Not that I’ve been sleeping all that great over the last two years, but it had been better until now. My fingers go up to the pendant hanging off my neck, touching it gently, a reflex when I think about them.
I should be in a better place than I am.
At least that’s what my therapist says. She hasn’t been too pleased with my progress to date. Every time she mentions something along those lines in her perfectly crafted, psychobabble way, I remind her—far less subtly—that I lost my reason for living, so she should just back the fuck off. I think the fact that I haven’t offed myself should be considered a major accomplishment.
Apparently it’s not.
I’m done with therapy.
I made the changes I had to, and the rest is just a matter of getting through each day.
But now those changes are no longer enough. I don’t see them in my car or my tiny studio apartment, because they were never in either of those places. I don’t even see them at work,
because I switched hospitals too.
But I see them everywhere else.
I see them in the grocery store, at the movies, in the coffee shop, and walking around town. Everywhere. And it’s killing me. Little by little. Day by day.
It’s killing me.
And even though I make that daily promise that today won’t be the day I kill myself and end my misery, it’s happening anyway.
I can feel it, and I need to do something. I need to get out of here. Away from the place that I spent my entire life with Eric, and then the last few years with Maggie.