Out of the Shallows Read online

  Out of the Shallows

  Copyright © 2014 Samantha Young

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without prior written permission of the above author of this book.

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

  This work is registered with and protected by Copyright House.

  Edited by Jennifer Sommersby Young

  Cover stock image by Vitaly Valua

  (http://www.valuavitaly.com)

  Cover design by Samantha Young

  Interior Design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats

  (https://www.facebook.com/FictionalFormats)

  Other Contemporary Novels by Samantha Young

  Into the Deep

  On Dublin Street Series:

  On Dublin Street

  Until Fountain Bridge (a novella)

  Down London Road

  Castle Hill (a novella)

  Before Jamaica Lane

  Fall From India Place

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  The heady scent of flowers filled the room. These days it clung to everything. Even after I washed my hands a dozen times, they still smelled as if I’d doused them in floral perfume.

  “That’s pretty.”

  I turned from the arrangement of red roses and white lilies to find Claudia gesturing to it. I glanced back at the flowers. “I think I’m getting the hang of it. Finally.”

  “Whose it for?”

  “It’s Hub’s. For his wife. Their fifteenth anniversary.”

  Claudia nodded. “Heart of mush underneath that bear-like exterior, huh?”

  I grinned. Hub owned the local diner in my small hometown of Lanton, Indiana. He was a huge guy with an even huger beard and gruff demeanor, and I could see why non-locals might find him slightly intimidating. But Claud was right. Hub was all heart. “He placed this order over a month ago. That is not a man who forgets his anniversary.”

  My friend smiled and then gestured behind her into the store front of my mother’s florist shop. “I rearranged the shop window like you asked.”

  Delia’s was the only florist in town, and although Lanton wasn’t huge, she kept fairly busy. She’d had a mold issue in the back room where I was working on floral arrangements, but after spending money my parents really couldn’t afford to spend to fix it, Delia’s was up and running again.

  If only I could be one hundred percent positive that Delia, my actual mom, was up and running too.

  “Thanks. If I don’t tell you enough, I really appreciate you being here.” Once Claudia had finished at the University of Edinburgh, she’d rushed back to the States, suitcase in tow, and moved in with my parents and me. She’d been here the whole summer, helping us out during one of the worst times of my family’s life.

  “You can stop saying that now. I might have to hurt you if you don’t.”

  I smirked. “Fine.”

  Claudia frowned as she glanced around us. “Uh… where is Delia Mom, anyway?”

  Mom was at the cemetery. It was becoming a regular hang out for her. I found myself hunching back over the arrangement as I murmured, “Where else?”

  “Ah. Okay.” Claudia sighed. “So, Lowe called me this morning.”

  I didn’t answer.

  “He says he’s tried calling you.”

  Shrugging with more nonchalance than I felt, I said, “I know. I just… I haven’t spoken to Jake, so I don’t think it’s right if I speak to Lowe.”

  “Lowe’s your friend.”

  “No, Lowe is Jake’s friend. I’ve hurt Jake enough without confiding in his friend when I won’t confide in him.”

  I reached for more filler foliage. Claudia’s hand curled around mine, stopping me. “The arrangement is done.”

  Turning to her, I said, “I get the feeling you want to talk.”

  “Charley, school starts back up in a week. Are you ready?”

  “No. But I’m trying to be.”

  “We’re going back to the old apartment, and it’s senior year so we’ll have tons on our plates to keep us busy. You’ll get to see Alex again, too. This will be good.”

  I looked away, worrying my lip between my teeth. After a moment of silence, I said softly, “Do you really think they’re okay for me to go? Mom still visits the cemetery every day and Dad… he’s still mad at me.”

  Claudia’s eyes were filled with sympathy but I could also see determination in them. “Maybe Delia is still visiting the cemetery but that doesn’t mean she’s not good. She’s much better, Charley. She can cope on her own here now. And Jim… he loves you. He’ll come around when you come around.”

  “Don’t,” I warned, definitely not wanting to walk into that territory.

  She held her hands up in surrender. “I won’t. But are you ever planning on talking to Jake again?”

  I glowered at her. “What is this? Piss-Off-Charley Day?”

  “No, this is ‘It’s time to get back to normal and start facing up to the decisions you’ve made these last few months Day.’ Such as the one you made regarding a certain Jacob Caplin?”

  A familiar pain sliced across my chest, but I refused to give into it. Instead I brushed past Claud to grab a broom and started on the back room floor. “Then no, I don’t plan on talking to Jake again. It’s over. We’re just going to leave it at that.”

  Claudia inhaled sharply. “You’re just going to leave him hanging, wondering where it all went wrong?” She sounded horrified. Guilt crashed over me.

  I shoved it forcefully aside. “We’ve hurt each other too much. How can we possibly come back from that?”

  “You could try.”

  “Like you’re trying with Beck?”

  Her elegant brows drew together. “That’s different.”

  “Claudia—”

  “But I’ll drop it. For now.”

  Somewhere along the way I think people got the wrong impression about me. I think I got the wrong impression about me. I don’t know if it was that time I shoved my sister out of the way of a moving vehicle, taking the impact instead, and I got the nickname Supergirl. Or maybe it’s my general cockiness.

  Whatever it is, I think people think I’m this fearless, brave, independent young woman who couldn’t give a shit what other people think.

  I really couldn’t give a shit what other people think.

  But I care what my parents think of me. And I’m afraid of losing them.

  So not fearless. So not brave. And I guess not nearly as independent as I used to think I was.

  When you’re a kid, your whole happiness is wrapped up in your parents. A hug from them, a kiss on the forehead, a piggyback ride, their laughter, their kind words, their affection, their love… it took away a hurt knee, or a classma
te’s name-calling, or the death of a beloved pet. As long as I knew my parents loved me, that I made them proud, and that I had their respect, I’d been all right.

  That feeling never really goes away, though. It’s amazing how easy it is for a parent to make you feel like a little kid all over again.

  That’s how I’d been feeling around my family for months now… like a kid craving my parents’ love and respect. Lately, for the past few months, I felt like they were nothing but disappointed in me. Especially my dad.

  Later that day, after Mom came back from the cemetery and helped Claudia and I finish out the day, we went home to make dinner. My dad, a mechanic, owned auto shop. He got in from work not too much later and soon we were seated around the dining table.

  A familiar silence fell.

  The clinking of cutlery off plates, glasses against cutlery, the rustle of napkins, the crunch of bread, it amplified the quiet. We didn’t have a whole lot to say to each other these days.

  I was surprised when Dad asked, “You thought any more on taking that exam you need to pass to get into law school?”

  I looked over at Claudia, her eyes rounded at Dad’s question. I shocked her by replying, “I’m taking the LSATs this fall, Dad.”

  Claudia’s eyes bugged out. “You are?”

  She had taken the LSATs in June and passed, but she was under the impression that I was done with pursuing law school.

  Feeling my parents’ gazes burning into my cheeks, I nodded. “I am. As long as I take them in time for February results, I can apply to start law school next fall.”

  “I’m pleased to hear it. I’m sure Claudia will help you study,” Dad said.

  Our eyes met and for the first time in months, Dad’s were almost tender. He was genuinely pleased. To him I was making the right decision.

  I didn’t know if it was the right decision to apply for law school instead of applying to the police academy like I wanted to. That was probably why I hadn’t mentioned anything to Claudia about my decision—I didn’t want someone talking me out of it. The truth was I’d made the decision based on what was best for my family.

  “So am I.” Glancing over at Mom, I saw tears shining in her eyes as she smiled at me.

  Yeah, totally the best decision for my family.

  It gave them peace of mind, and they needed that more than I needed to be a cop.

  Claudia bravely queried, “Are you sure that’s what you want, Charley?”

  “Of course.” I gave her a tight smile.

  Dinner was less awkward than usual after that. Mom and Dad actually engaged in conversation and afterward, instead of shooing me off when I attempted to help clean up, Mom let me.

  I followed her into the kitchen and piled the plates near the trash. As I began scraping off the leftovers Mom said, “I’m proud of this decision, Charlotte.”

  I glanced over at her. “Yeah?”

  She smiled, her eyes misting. They did that a lot these days. Mom had never been a big crier before… well, before… but she welled up at the slightest thing now. “I have to admit it’s been playing in the back of my mind these last few months—you going off to the academy after graduation. Going into the police. It’s not like I haven’t always known you could take care of yourself. Even when you pushed Andie out of the way of Finnegan’s SUV, I worried for about half a second until I saw you. Your leg covered in a cast, bruises all over, and you grinned at us when we walked into that hospital room. All cocky. If that had been Andie, it would’ve shaken her up more. She was a mess after it happened. She followed you around for weeks. It drove you nuts.”

  Just like that, a lump formed in my own throat and I turned away, trying to swallow past the collection of mounting tears. “I remember,” I whispered.

  “I didn’t want you to be a cop. But before this summer, I felt guilty for pressuring you into not going for it. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life waiting for a phone call in the night to tell me that my daughter had been killed just doing her job. But more than that, I didn’t want my kid to resent me for holding her back. For not supporting her.

  “But then Andie…” She pushed away from the counter and walked toward me. She stopped and reached out to take my hand. “I know it’s selfish to ask you to give up the academy. I know it. I don’t know if you really want to take the LSATs or if you’re just saying it to please your dad and me. If I were a stronger woman, I’d tell you to go for it. Go for your dream. But I’m not. I’m happy you’re not applying to the academy. I’m sorry, but that’s the truth. Please don’t hate me.”

  “I get it. That’s why I’m not doing it.”

  “Do you really want to be a lawyer, though? Because you don’t have to be.”

  I grinned wryly. “I can’t give Dad what he really wants. For the first time in my life, I’ve disappointed him—”

  “Charley—”

  “No, Mom, you know it’s true. I wish I were stronger too. But I’m not, so this is all I can give right now. He’s always wanted me to be a lawyer. I’m taking the LSATs.”

  Mom’s grip on my hand tightened. “One day we’ll be us again.”

  God, I hoped so because right now I really missed my dad and I really missed Andie.

  The tears spilled down my cheeks and I turned away, trying to focus on the dishes. Mom gave me space.

  Just as her footsteps disappeared out of the kitchen, my phone buzzed in my pocket. My stomach flipped unpleasantly at the name on the screen.

  Another missed call from Jake.

  That would be one a day since I’d left Edinburgh.

  Like clockwork the text message came after it.

  You know the drill…

  Despite the fact that I never answered his calls, Jake kept trying, hoping for the day I’d change my mind. Six weeks ago, when it became clear I wasn’t going to answer his calls or texts, he’d sent me a message asking me to at least let him know I was all right. So I did. Every day since, he’d wanted to know at least that.

  Brushing the remaining tears from my cheeks, I replied.

  I’m okay.

  I never asked him if he was okay. There was so much guilt weighing on me, I was taking the coward’s way out with Jake. I’d hurt him. I knew that. I just didn’t want to hear him say it.

  Shoving my phone back in my pocket, I thought how ironic it was that only a few short months ago, I’d made him work his ass off to make up for the way he broke up with me when he was seventeen. Over four years later I’d hurt him just as badly. I’d promised myself I’d never hurt anyone the way Jake hurt me.

  What a difference a few months can make.

  “…you against my fallow heart. There’ll be no sympathy from me, my friend. I lost you out in the shallows…”

  For the past twenty minutes I’d been successfully working on a tutorial project, my laptop open on the table, beer beside it, while my friends sat around me listening to indie rock band The Stolen.

  We were in Milk, a bar on the Cowgate, an area of Edinburgh where my fellow Americans and I were living while doing a year abroad at the University of Edinburgh.

  Luckily for me, I was the kind of girl who could drown out a live rock band and a noisy crowd in order to complete classwork I forgot was due the next day. I could’ve stayed back at my apartment, but I had unpleasant business to take care of there later so I was avoiding having to spend any more time there than necessary.

  This hadn’t been a problem until my friend Lowe, lead vocalist of the band began singing my favorite song, “Lonely Boy.” Since the moment I’d heard it months ago during their first set in Scotland, it’d struck a chord. And every time I heard it, it pulled me in.

  I turned my head from my laptop screen to look up at the small stage. Lowe, a hot, smart musician with tattoos, a lip ring, and messy dark hair, caught my movement and focused on me, his eyes smiling over the top of his rimless glasses.

  I gave a small smile back and picked up my beer, listening to his song.

  Lowe to
ld us that he was never more honest than he was when he wrote a song. In response, my boyfriend Jake had joked about me writing a song for him. The joke fell flat because the truth was I wasn’t being open enough with him. I was keeping a part of myself from Jake. Tonight was supposed to be a step forward for us—a big step for me, but one I felt I had to take if we had any hope of holding onto a relationship.

  I’d been feeling nervous but okay about it. Until Lowe and his freaking song.

  As if he’d guessed where my mind had wandered, Jake rested his chin on my shoulder. He wrapped his arms around my waist and drew me against his chest. “Where are you right now?” he asked, his lips tickling my ear.

  I shivered and turned my head slightly so his lips touched my cheek. “I’m right here.”

  “Why does this song get to you?”

  I jerked, staring into his gorgeous face in surprise.

  Jake smiled slightly, his dark eyes warm and knowing. “I pay attention.”

  “You’re a know-it-all.”

  His white teeth flashed. “Only when it comes to you. When a subject really interests me, I give it my unwavering focus.”

  “Are you saying you’re an expert on me?”

  His eyes lowered and I felt his grip loosen. “Hopefully one day you’ll let me be.”

  Not knowing how to answer, I looked back at the stage. For the last few days, since we’d started a physical relationship, the uneasiness that existed beneath the surface had only increased. It wasn’t borne of not wanting one another. Far from it. No, I was holding out on an emotional level and Jake was trying to be patient, which wasn’t his strong suit.

  All in all, it had created a sense of fragility between us.

  I relaxed against his hold, brushing my fingers over his knuckles.

  “Beck, show us your pecs!” a pretty brunette at the next table shouted over the music. I smirked at the scowl my girl Claudia shot her way.

  Beck was Jake’s best friend. He was also now one of Claudia’s best friends. As lead guitarist, Beck stood at the front of the stage with Lowe. He was absurdly attractive, tall and blond, with lethal gray eyes and an even more lethal smile. Beck was everything you’d expect from a rock band, with his sleeve tattoos on one arm, lazy-ass sense of style, and a way with women. He oozed sex and charisma more than anyone I’d ever met in my life, but I knew there was more to him than the whole bad-boy thing he played up. I knew this because I’d seen how different he was around Claudia. He wanted to be devoted to her in a way he wouldn’t even admit to himself, which was probably why he was eye-fucking the brunette at the next table.