To Have Read online

  To Have

  Book 1 of The Vows series

  Kali Brixton

  To Have

  Kali Brixton

  To Have is an original work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Kali Brixton

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  To Have Playlist

  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

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  To all my fellow HEA chasers:

  May your glass slippers always fit.

  To those who are battle-worn:

  May you find the rest you need and

  the courage you require the vanquish the monsters

  —once and for all.

  To Have Playlist

  Patsy Cline “I Fall to Pieces”

  Myleene Klass “The Heart Asks For Pleasure First”

  Ludovico Einaudi “Nuvere Nere”

  Helen Jane Long “The Aviators” “Expression” “Passes” “Out of It All”

  Rod Stewart “Forever Young”

  The Piano Guys“Beethoven’s 5 Secrets”

  Lindsey Stirling “Song of the Caged Bird”

  Seether feat. Amy Lee “Broken”

  Rascal Flatts “What Hurts the Most”

  Chris Stapleton “Broken Halo”

  Sia “Elastic Heart”

  MNEK “Never Forget You”

  Madonna “Hung Up”

  Imagine Dragons “I Bet My Life”

  Brandy “Departed”

  Nickleback “Someday” “Far Away”

  3 Doors Down “Here Without You”

  Sarah McLachlin “Sweet Surrender”

  UB40 “Can’t Help Falling in Love With You”

  Daughtry “Life After You”

  Chapter One

  Deacon

  Machinery whirred around me as the ventilator pumped steady breaths into her lungs. In and out. In and out. In. Out. Every soft beep from the devices hooked to her pricked my heart—a reminder that I was the reason she was here.

  For someone who had survived hell as a child and as a soldier, buried his best friend at 21, and was sitting here with a deep gash bandaged on his side, it was some next level shit that this was the worst moment of my life. Because the girl I’ve adored with every fiber of my being since I was eight was lying in this white bed, clinging to life—all because I was a fucking idiot.

  Our history, littered with the wreckage of broken promises, secrets, and me being an asshole, was a testament to how things that should be so simple can quickly become a shitstorm of complication.

  I shifted in my seat—my home for the last five days—and propped my face on my scratched-up hands. Five days since I heard her voice. Five days since I saw those beautiful green eyes with silver streaked throughout them. Five days since that asshole put her here.

  If he weren’t dead already, I’d want to kill him again. The thought of him hurting this innocent woman—full of love and sunshine—made me see red in every shade and made the rage bubble beneath my skin.

  Our future wasn’t supposed to be this. Then again, when did anything ever go right in my life?

  A warm hand on my shoulder brought me out of my thoughts. “Here, honey.” The soft voice of my adopted mother wrapped around me like a hug as she handed over a cup of steaming brown liquid before taking the seat beside me.

  There was no doubt where Charlotte got her beauty. She was the spitting image of her mom with just a touch of her father, Charles, a man I had come to know and love as my dad over the last 17 years. A man who was now slightly hobbling over to his daughter’s bedside. The stroke he had suffered had marred his speech and affected his stride, but with therapy, those things had improved over the last six months.

  Six months ago. When he came into the picture. When he thought he could take my girl. When he felt he had a right to destroy her and her family.

  “Have the doctors stopped by?” Green eyes with a hint of gold glittered with hope.

  I shook my head. Nothing had changed in five days, and those countless hours without real answers had worn us all to frazzled pieces.

  “I’m gonna go find Dr. Henson.”

  “Lynn, I’m sure they’ll be by soon,” Charles said quietly as he held his daughter’s other hand, never taking his eyes from her face—or at least the parts he could see past the tubes that bisected her beauty.

  One parent desperate for answers on her daughter’s condition and prognosis. One parent delaying the inevitable longer because the news might mean he’d lose his little girl. One asshole sitting with them who thought at one time he’d get to ask them for their daughter’s hand in marriage. Math was always my subject, but these numbers and figures sucked.

  I had been causing the Kasen family heartache since I was eleven when they took me in to save me from bad home life. I had caused one child’s death and it was looking very likely that I might be the cause of another. One I would never survive myself.

  I stared at the beautiful halo of blonde hair around Charlotte, flecks of her own blood and mine marring its golden hue—a perfect color for the girl who is sunshine personified.

  I stared at her eyelids, looking for some sign of movement. Nothing. I held her hand, as I had done so many times in the days before, praying to God that He could turn back the clock and make all of this go away. But, the hand I held was lifeless despite its warmth, and the only clock turning back seemed to be the one in my wishes. What I wouldn’t give for her to squeeze back. I looked at her delicate hand in mine, my mind flooding with a happier memory of holding her hand.

  17 Years Ago

  The sky was clear, and the sun shone brightly through the tree limbs over where I stood. Birds chirped their joy and flitted from branch to branch. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves above my head and attempted to dry my tears, failing because they were falling too fast. The sound of metal hitting dirt echoed as I dug at the hole I had been working on for quite some time. A beautiful day to bury my dog.

  My dog Duke, the only friend I had in the world, dying, was enough to make me cry, but Mom leaving us last week and Dad moving us to a new state three days ago piled on heartache too heavy for my 8-year-old chest. Dad had been in a bad mood since before Mom left and had been extremely hateful towards me, but I understood. He was hurting. I was hurting. Then, Duke died.

  He had shown no signs of being sick or hurt in the last few days, but when I went out this morning to check on him, he laid quietly in t
he grass, his big brown body stretched out like it always was when he took a nap in the sun at our old home. After figuring out something was wrong, I ran into the house to get my dad to help him. He barely looked up from the table. “He’s dead.”

  Those emotionless words sliced through my heart. “H-how do you know?”

  “You see him moving?” He pushed his chair back, standing to his full height. He wasn’t the tallest man, but he was big and bulky. “He was an old mutt. Just his time. Take him out by the trees and bury him.”

  “Will you he-help me?”

  “Your dog, your fucking problem.” So nasty, so cold. “And stop crying. Dogs die. People leave. Get over it.”

  I was eight, on the verge of having a breakdown from all the changes I had been through the last week, and I needed my dad. I walked over to him and put my hand on his arm, grabbing his shirt sleeve, a sob escaping my mouth. “Pl-please?”

  My cheek exploded in pain as his hand seared across it. I stood there, tears fresh and threatening to spill over again. My mouth hung open in shock, and my hand covering my face did little to help the sting.

  “Stop fucking whining.” His eyes shone with an anger I had never seen before, and his fingers dug into my upper arm, dragging me towards the door. “There’s a shovel in the shed out back. Take care of the damn thing.”

  I stumbled out of the house and hurried towards the shed. My dad had never hit me before. After a short cry in the shed, where only the old rusted tools left behind by the previous owner could hear me, I located the shovel and happened upon an old rusted wheelbarrow with a flat tire. It was the only option since Duke was a big dog, and there’s no way I could drag him out to the trees at the edge of the property by myself.

  After struggling to get him in the wheelbarrow, I rested the shovel beside him and began pushing it towards the tree line. I was sweating profusely from the time I got to the trees, so I took the bottom hem of my shirt to wipe away the sweat and tears from my face. I reached for the shovel, leaving Duke in the wheelbarrow, and started to plow up the ground.

  I had almost finished digging the hole when I heard a faint rustle to my left. My sniffles and the sounds of nature around me had blocked out everything else, so when I looked up and saw a little blonde-headed girl in a white dress with daisies staring at me, I startled. I tripped over my own two feet and landed on my behind with a thud.

  The little girl ran over, long blonde hair blowing behind her. She leaned down and held out her hand, big green eyes sparkling in the streaks of sunlight from above us, squinted slightly from the big smile on her face. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded and started to take her hand, the dirt caked on them, stopping me midway.

  “It’s all right. I’ll have to wash them for lunch.”

  I took her hand, and even though I put most of my weight on my other arm, she tugged and grunted like she was lifting me by herself. I tried to dust myself off as best I could, looking back up at her. “Th-thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She dusted her hands off and patted down her dress, adding more dirt to it, but she didn’t seem to mind. “I’m Charlotte. Who are you?”

  “D-Deacon.”

  She smiled brightly again. “Nice to meet you, Deacon.”

  No mean words about my stutter. Not even a hint that she noticed it. This was a first.

  The birds in the trees immediately started to perch on the ground and chirped loudly at her. “I feed them every morning. They like to eat from my hand.” Pride was evident in the way she smiled, one tooth missing in the front. “I could show you how some time if you want.”

  I nodded yes, surprised that anyone wanted to show me anything after the week I’ve had.

  “What are you doing?”

  I looked to the rusted bucket holding Duke. “My dog died.”

  “I’m sorry. My dog died too. Her name was Daisy.” She pointed at the flowers on her dress. “They’re my favorite. See?”

  I noticed all the daisies that decorated her dress. Pretty. Just like her.

  “Need me to help you? I helped my dad and brothers give Daisy a funeral too.”

  “F-funeral?”

  “When someone dies, people say nice things about them and put them in the ground. Then they throw flowers in the ground with them.” She looked around at the ground. “Do you have flowers?”

  I was sad at the thought that I couldn’t give my dog a real funeral, but I didn’t know where any flowers were. “No.”

  She took off around the trees and shot down the side of the fence, leaving me by myself. I lost sight of her as she ran on, so I turned back to Duke. I used the wheelbarrow to get him closer to the edge, then gently turned the side of it over, letting Duke slowly lower into the hole. I tucked him into space, making sure he was positioned comfortably and started to shovel piles of dirt on his hindquarters, tears making the ground darker wherever they landed.

  “Wait for me!” Charlotte came running around the trees, arms full of wildflowers. “I had to find the pretty ones. You have to use the prettiest ones for a funeral—or a nice dinner.” She walked over to the hole and threw the flowers one at a time, covering him from tail to collar.

  I watched her with curiosity as she threw one like she knew exactly what to do. She dusted her hands once more and came to stand beside me. “We need to say some things about Duke.”

  “What d-do I say?”

  “How much you will miss him; how sad you are that he’s gone… You know: nice things.”

  I cleared my throat and rattled off everything I could think of: how he was the best dog ever, how he made me so happy, how much I’m going to miss him. I had started to cry again at the end of my speech when a little hand found its way inside mine and held it tightly. She took her other hand and softly massaged my hand with hers. I looked at where we were joined, then at her. Shiny eyes that gave away a hint of sadness met mine.

  “My mommy holds my hand like this when I’m sad or sick. It makes me feel better.” The warmth in my hand moved up into my chest, making the ache not so unbearable. “May I say something to him?”

  I shook my head in agreement, and she looked down into the shallow grave at him.

  “Duke, my name is Charlotte. I just met you and Deacon today. I’m sorry I didn’t get to know you before you died, but I bet you were a good doggie.”

  I smiled at her, taking in how kind her words were to an animal she didn’t even know. It was enough to make my heart explode with gratefulness, but then I heard her say the words that would forever be branded on my soul:

  “I’m sure you loved Deacon so much. He’s really sad that you’re not here to love him back anymore,” she squeezed my hand just the slightest bit. “So, since you won’t be able to, I’m gonna love him for you.”

  I’m gonna love him for you. Just like that. A little girl who didn’t even know my last name made a promise to my best friend that she would love me because he couldn’t anymore.

  “I will make him smile and bring him my mom’s chicken soup when he’s sick. I can’t use the stove yet because Mommy says I’ll get burned, but I will make it myself when I’m bigger. I will give him hugs when he needs them and say nice things to him when he’s feeling sad. I will sit with him when he’s lonely and give him my coat if he’s cold…” She paused for a moment to look at me, then turned her attention back to Duke. “I will always love him and take care of him and be his friend.”

  She let go of my hand and wrapped her arms around my waist. I had never been hugged by a girl before, other than my mom. It was weird—but I didn’t hate it. I slowly put my arms around her and gave her a gentle squeeze back. She released me and dropped to her knees beside Duke’s face, reaching down into the grave to rub his head a few times. I smiled, knowing Duke would’ve liked her; maybe even Mom would have.

  “Ready?”

  I shrugged my shoulders, knowing this was the final time I’d ever get to look at Duke’s face. I took a long minute to stare at him and his big
brown body. A stray that showed up one day and never left. A companion when my stuttering kept others away from me. A dog I couldn’t have loved anymore if I tried.

  Charlotte picked up handfuls of dirt and tossed them lightly onto his torso, and I joined in. It took a lot longer than the shovel, but it was nice to have help. We repeated the dirt toss until we got to his face. She pulled out a piece of fabric from her dress pocket and laid it across Duke’s face. I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion.

  “It’s a handkerchief. My daddy says everyone who has a pocket should keep one on them.” She spread the corners out, then tucked two of them under his snout. “It will keep him from getting dirt in his nose. Nobody likes getting dirt in their nose.”

  I nodded in agreement even though I didn’t understand why that was important since he was already gone. She bent over and pushed the remaining dirt over his face, patting it gently into place and grabbing a loose rock to put at the top of the pile. “He has to have a gravestone.”

  “Charlotte!”

  “That’s my brother Aidan.” She cupped her hands over her mouth and answered him with a high-pitched shout, “Over here, A!”

  “We were playing hide-and-seek when I saw you.” Dropping her voice to a whisper, she added, “I like to hide behind that willow tree.” She pointed at the tall tree swaying in the wind standing behind me. “Wanna come play with us?”