Forever Us Read online

  Forever Us

  by

  Melanie Shawn

  Copyright © 2014 Melanie Shawn

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this book. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission in writing from Melanie Shawn. Exceptions are limited to reviewers who may use brief quotations in connection with reviews. No part of this book can be transmitted, scanned, reproduced, or distributed in any written or electronic form without written permission from Melanie Shawn.

  This book is a work of fiction. Places, names, characters and events are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Disclaimer: The material in this book is for mature audiences only and contains graphic content. It is intended only for those aged 18 and older.

  Cover Design by Mayhem Cover Creations

  Copyedits by Mickey Reed Editing

  Proofreading Services by Raiza McDuffie

  Proofreading Services by Tiesha Brunson

  Proofreading Services by Jill Grabert Estes

  Book Design by BB eBooks

  Published by Red Hot Reads Publishing

  Rev. 1.0

  Forever Us is book 3 in the Someday Series.

  NOTE: This trilogy was intended to be read in the following order:

  Someday Girl (The Someday Series, #1)

  One Day His (The Someday Series, #2)

  Forever Us (The Someday Series, #3)

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  About the Someday Series

  Prologue

  1: Cat

  2: Jace

  3: Cat

  4: Jace

  5: Cat

  6: Jace

  7: Cat

  8: Jace

  9: Cat

  10: Cat

  11: Jace

  12: Cat

  13: Jace

  14: Jace

  15: Cat

  16: Jace

  17: Cat

  18: Jace

  19: Cat

  20: Jace

  21: Cat

  22: Jace

  23: Cat

  24: Jace

  25: Cat

  26: Jace

  27: Jace

  28: Cat

  29: Cat

  30: Jace

  31: Jace

  32: Cat

  Dedication

  Other Titles by Melanie Shawn

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Jace

  “All right. The photographer and reporter are here. I need you downstairs now,” Jerry announced loudly—in his usual prick-ish tone—as he walked into Cat’s room.

  Turning around from the scenic ocean view from the floor-to-ceiling windows, I saw Cat’s roommates, Sandy, Brandy, and Evelyn, all excitedly rush towards the door. Cat followed behind her friends, looking anything but excited.

  I did not have a good feeling about this. Not only were there a photographer and reporter here to document ‘Angelica James’ Perfect Thanksgiving Dinner,’ now that Cat’s roommates had surprised her, they would be joining the circus. I didn’t think there was a chance in hell Cat’s mom was going to be okay with these added guests.

  My only comfort was that one thing these last few days had taught me; when it came to dealing with Cat’s mom, always expect the unexpected. Angelica never behaved the way I thought she would. When I thought she was going to lose it, she was calm. When I thought she would be kind to her daughter, she was cruel. Maybe this would be another time that she would surprise me.

  God, I hoped so.

  Stepping behind Cat, I followed her out as I heard her quietly ask Jerry, who was busily typing on his phone, “Does she know about the girls being—”

  “Yes. Your mother is taking care of a few things, so go ahead and start dinner. She’ll be down shortly.”

  I saw Cat’s shoulders tense, so I placed my hand on her lower back as we headed downstairs. Cat’s breaths were shallow, and I could feel tension rolling off her in waves. Every protective cell in my body wanted to grab her and leave. I hated seeing, feeling, my open, sweet, brown-eyed girl tied up in knots because of her psychotic mother.

  I pushed down my instinct to get Cat the hell out of here, just as we made it to the bottom step, and my eyes drifted over her body. She was wearing black pants that were tucked into black boots and a dark-green sweater that fell off her shoulder. She looked breathtaking and edible. Everyone else might have been hungry for turkey, but I was hungry for Cat. I knew it wasn’t an appropriate time to be sporting wood, but I couldn’t help it. Around Cat, I was like a preteen again who got a boner when the breeze blew too hard.

  A chick who appeared more than a little impressed with herself, stepped up to Cat. “Hello, you must be Catherine. I’m Johanna Burke, and this is my photographer, Peter.”

  Cat sweetly shook both of their hands and introduced everyone. “Pleased to meet you. This is my boyfriend, Jace. And these are my roommates from college, Sandy, Brandy, and Evelyn.”

  All three of the girls smiled and waved. I nodded even though I instantly did not like this woman or the photographer. I didn’t like how they looked at Cat or spoke to her. Their dismissive attitudes were pissing me off, but I tried my best to disguise it, not wanting Cat to notice.

  Clapping her hands in front of her, Cat brightly announced, “I believe that dinner is actually ready to be served. If you will follow me…”

  Pride flowed through me as we all followed behind Cat. I knew that this was all so far out of her comfort zone that it wasn’t even funny. The center of attention was the last place in the world she would have ever wanted to be, especially after the late-night talk show shit that had gone down.

  Walking into the formal dining area, I was blown away by the scene. It was exactly what you would picture if you thought of the perfect Thanksgiving dinner.

  Peter rudely shooed us out of the room, telling us to wait outside so that he could take some shots of the impressive ‘Angelica James’ Thanksgiving spread.’ I came so close to saying that Cat’s mom had nothing to do with that table. Rachel, who worked thanklessly for the movie star, had everything to do with it. But I knew it wasn’t my place, so I didn’t say a word.

  After Picture Boy was done and we walked back in, Cat said, “Let’s sit.” Her high-pitched voice told me that she was really fighting her nerves.

  Once I pulled out her chair, I noticed that Sandy, Brandy, and Evelyn all sat on the other side of her while Reporter Barbie and her douchebag photographer stood across the room, staring at us. Looking at Cat, I could see that her nerves were now turning to panic. I had no problem stepping in and taking control of this situation, but I didn’t want to make it worse for her.

  I was still trying to figure out what would be the best tactic to take, when Johanna asked, in one of the most condescending tones I’d ever heard, “Aren’t we…waiting for your mother?”

  “She’s just taking care of a few things. She’ll be down shortly,” Cat said quickly.

  I knew that Cat had no idea if that was the case, but I was glad that she’d answered Robo-bitch’s question and didn’t let it fluster her.

  Cat’s voice was about three octaves higher than normal when she announced, “Let’s eat!”

  Rachel and Don appeared out of nowhere with food. Johanna and Peter decided to grace us with their company. Or maybe they were hungry. Either way, they sat down. Sandy, who was Cat’s most outgoing roommate, thankfully filled the silence. I was in no mood for small talk, and I could tell that Cat wasn’t either. r />
  I was also starting to think that Cat’s mom actually might not make an appearance. That we would make it through this entire meal without having to deal with the force of nature that was Angelica James. I’d thought too soon.

  As Cat’s mom swept into the room like she was royalty, I resisted the urge to laugh. The more time I spent around this woman, the more of a joke she was to me. And not in a funny-ha-ha way. No, in the pathetic-excuse-for-a-human-being way. She didn’t deserve to have Cat as her daughter.

  “Oh, my,” Angelica cackled. “Have we already started? I suppose we couldn’t be bothered to wait for the guest of honor, now could we?”

  Johanna, being the brown-noser I knew she was after having been around her just ten minutes, piped in, “I thought that was odd. I suggested we wait.”

  Angelica ate that up as she gushed and hugged a woman she barely knew. “Aren’t you just a dear? Honestly, I don’t know what’s gotten into Cat. I certainly didn’t raise her that way!”

  That was getting dangerously close to stepping over the line I’d drawn about how she could talk to Cat. I felt my entire body tense, but I quickly reminded myself that I was here for Cat. Placing my hand on her lower back, I hoped that touching her would anchor me to that truth.

  Johanna pulled out a pad of paper (really, why wasn’t she just recording this?) and asked, “So, Angelica, tell me. What is it like sharing this beautiful Thanksgiving with your family just a few days after almost losing your life in a horrific car accident? Does it give you a new perspective on life?”

  Okay, so I guessed that was a new form of journalism. In a court, they called it leading a witness. She’d tossed that one up for Angelica to hit it out of the park.

  “Oh, Johanna, that is so true. Family has always been the most important thing to me, by far. My darling daughter, Cat, is my whole life, really. The sacrifices I have made for her… Well, I could tell you stories. But it has all been worth it. I’ve always known that.

  “But then, as I lay in my hospital bed just days ago, inches from death, not knowing if I would ever see my precious child’s face again—it all became even clearer to me. Nothing matters, not any of it, if you don’t have your health and the people you love. The fame, the money—none of it holds a candle to the simple joy of sitting around this holiday table with my family and dear friends.”

  Give. Me. A. Fucking. Break.

  I would have thought that anyone with half a bullshit meter could have easily detected that Angelica’s speech was spiking in the red. Trying my best to tune out Angelica’s performance—and Johanna and Peter’s ass-kissing—I concentrated all of my energy on keeping my mouth shut and my head down as we all began eating.

  The meal continued, surprisingly uneventfully. All I cared about was that Cat was okay. When Rachel set a piece of pumpkin pie in front of her, she seemed to relax and even enjoy herself—then the doorbell rang. At the sound, her entire body tensed up.

  “I wonder who that could be,” Cat whispered.

  Angelica cleared her throat dramatically before saying, “Well, Cat, darling—I really wanted the whole family to be together at Thanksgiving.”

  I had no idea what the hell she was talking about. Cat had told me that the only family they had was each other. She’d never even known who her dad was.

  But when I turned towards the door, it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

  Fuck.

  Natalya was here. How had she found me? Family? Had she lied to Cat’s mom and said that we were related? I wouldn’t put it past her. Just last week, she’d lied to the hospital when she’d been admitted for an attempted suicide, saying that I was her fiancé. I’d known Natalya most of my life and I knew she would do whatever it took to get what she wanted—which, right now, happened to be me. We’d dated off and on as teenagers, but since I’d left for the Marines four years ago, we had been off.

  Trying not to make this situation worse than it was already, I asked quietly as I stood, “Natalya, what are you doing here?”

  Natalya looked to Cat’s mother, who said happily, “Oh, I found her! And, of course, I immediately invited her here for Thanksgiving dinner! After all, like I was saying, Thanksgiving is for families, and I really wanted the whole family together.”

  Maintaining ironclad control of my emotions, I clarified, “Natalya is no one’s family. Not in this room, anyway.”

  Angelica seemed overjoyed at my answer, which was odd, even for her schizo behavior. A sick smile spread across her face as she announced, “Oh, no, of course not. But this young man certainly is.”

  What the hell was she talking about now?

  Natalya turned and pushed a little kid out from behind her legs. “Say hello.”

  The kid lifted his hand and then looked back down at the ground. What the fuck had these two schemed up now?

  “Who is this?” Cat shakily asked.

  Angelica grandly crossed the room. “This is Gavin.” Then she faced me with a sadistic grin lifted on her lips. “He’s Jace’s son.”

  What the fuck?!

  Chapter 1

  Cat

  All night long

  Dark

  Lying in bed

  Dreams

  Bombarding my mind

  Awake or asleep, does not matter

  All night

  The dreams come either way

  They show me a world

  Place and time

  Too perfect for words

  Where nothing is as real as him

  Time drifts on, an endless cloud of bliss

  He holds me and I kiss him

  Space expands, an endless stream of joy

  Paradise

  Heaven

  Rapturous

  Forever bliss, forever joy

  Forever us

  Cat Nichols, Age 18

  “What?” My voice sounded small, mousy, and muted to my ears.

  I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. There was a hollowness in my gut and a buzzing in my head as I struggled to form a coherent thought. Fragments bounced around my mind like shards of glass, but getting any one of them to stay still long enough for me to get ahold of it seemed to be a challenge that was beyond my abilities. To say I was stunned would be an understatement.

  “Cat dear, why do you always make me repeat myself?” My mother had a way of saying the most innocuous thing but making it clear by the almost imperceptible edge in her voice that she was actually highly displeased. “This is Jace’s son. Gavin.”

  It can’t be true. Could it?

  Part of me wanted to believe that Ashton Kutcher was going to jump through the door and tell me that I was being Punk’d. But I knew that this was really happening. Natalya, Jace’s ex and possibly the mother of his child, was standing in front of me with a boy who looked like he could be Jace at three or four. Gavin was basically Jace’s mini-me.

  This was real. Natalya was here. In my home. At Thanksgiving. With a boy my mother was claiming to be Jace’s son.

  Suddenly, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Pain twisted in my chest like a wet towel being wrung out. My vision blurred and I wasn’t sure if it was because of the tears forming in my eyes or the searing discomfort from the constriction of my shortness of breath. My head felt so full that I was afraid it was going to burst like a balloon filled up with too much helium.

  Unexpectedly, a bright flash blinded me. I blinked, and like a rubber band, it snapped me out of my mini panic attack. On pure instinct, when my eyes opened, they sliced to the direction where the sudden glare had come from. I saw that Peter, the photographer who had been documenting ‘Angelica James’ Thanksgiving Dinner’—which had quickly disintegrated into an episode of Maury Povich—was holding his camera to his face and snapping pictures, one right after the other. Next to him, Johanna, the reporter, was frantically scribbling down notes, her head bobbing up and down as she scoped out the room then returned to her notebook. They both seemed to be devouring this all and docum
enting it all for posterity.

  The only benefit to those two being here was that the flash from the photog’s camera had served to jolt me out of the nervous breakdown that I’d been teetering dangerously close to the edge of. Now that I felt my senses returning, my eyes quickly scanned the rest of the room—once I realized that I had momentarily checked out—to see if anyone had noticed.

  Jerry, my mother’s assistant, was standing with his arms crossed, wearing a smug expression on his face. I wasn’t even sure when he’d shown up, but he was here now. His eyes met mine in a look that clearly communicated, “Checkmate,” like he’d finally won. Why he’d always hated me, I had no idea, but he seemed very pleased with himself for having dropped this bombshell.

  Not wanting him to see that his action had affected me and I was on the verge of tears, I looked towards the side of my room that held people who actually cared about me. My three college roommates and best friends—who, ironically, had driven down to support me through my last crisis (which, with what I was facing now, my unwanted YouTube fame seemed laughable!)—were all staring at Gavin and Natalya with their jaws hanging open.

  Jace, who was standing beside me, went white as a sheet as if he’d seen a ghost as he gazed at Gavin. And maybe that was what it felt like. He’d seen a ghost of his life’s past, present, and future all in one little package—a package in the form of a small boy with his bright-blue eyes and jet-black hair.

  Across the room, Natalya stood tall, appearing more than a little happy about being the center of attention. She was alternating between preening like a peacock and glancing at my mother with stars in her eyes. Apparently, Natalya was an Angelica James fan.

  As my eyes finally dropped to the little boy who was in the middle of all this, I sensed in him a kindred spirit. I recognized the same feeling that I had experienced so many times in my life was also inside him—the overwhelming desire to make yourself small, unnoticeable, invisible, if possible. It was coming off him in waves.

  Maybe to someone who had not grown up the way I had, his slumped shoulders and subtly darting eyes would not have telegraphed his intentions the way they did to me. But I knew he was attempting to be completely unseen and unnoticed, his manner was like a flashing red signal indicating his distress.