If Only...

If Only…

Lisa M. Owens

If Only…

Copyright © Lisa M. Owens, 2012, 2015

All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations within are from the author’s imagination and are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental.

This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. No part of this book can be reproduced or sold by any person or business without the express permission of the publisher.

Editor: Lisa M. Owens

Cover Art: http://www.selfpubbookcovers.com/Shardel

This book is dedicated to John and my children for their loving support. Thank you for believing in me when I failed to believe in myself. To all of the people who laughed at my dream of being a writer: who’s laughing now?

This book is also dedicated to all of the women who have ever been the victims of domestic violence. You know who you are.

You have the strength inside to overcome this. Trust me; I am speaking from personal experience. Don’t allow them to belittle you and control you. They are the weak ones, not you. They have no confidence in themselves, and they want you to feel the same way. I had the strength to escape and so do you.

Please call someone; seek the help that both you and your children deserve. Don’t be another fatality, just another statistic, another victim of domestic violence who waited too long to get help. You and your children don’t deserve to be punished; you have done nothing wrong. No matter what they may tell you, you are not fat, ugly, stupid, etc. Believe me, I have heard all this and more. Find the strength inside yourselves, and break free from this pattern of abuse. You deserve better than this; you deserve to find someone who will love you and cherish you for the woman that you are, and not punish you for the woman that you’re not. These men will never change. Don’t make the same mistake I did, thinking that your love could change him.

And to all of the survivors, I know how difficult it was for you to get out of that situation. It’s been almost seventeen years since I got out of my violent relationship, and I am still trying to recover on the inside. I am slowly regaining some self-confidence in myself, and I am still fighting an inner battle with myself each and every day, trying to prove both to myself and to everybody else that I am worth something.

The violent scenes in this book were extremely difficult for me to write; there were times when I was typing as tears streamed down my face. This has been a therapeutic experience for me, and I only hope that by sharing my experience with other people, I can spread awareness about domestic violence. You are not alone, and you will survive this and move on with your life.

I want to dedicate this book to all of you, and my prayers are with you. If this book can help one person, then I will feel as though I have made a valuable contribution. This is more than just a romance novel. To me, it has been a chapter of my life that I have been trying to get past for almost seventeen years. And now I feel like I can move on with my life and let it go. I can only hope that maybe some of you will begin to feel the same way, in time.

Acknowledgements

I want to thank John Hacker II for patiently explaining, numerous times, security procedures. Any mistakes made are mine.

If you or someone you know is in an abusive situation, there are people who can help.

Contact:

The National Domestic Violence Hotline

Available 24/7

1-800-799-SAFE (7233)

TTY 1-800-787-3224

Thank you to the counselors at DVIS, otherwise known as Domestic Violence Intervention Services, who spend countless hours helping people fill out the paperwork for protective orders, waiting for the judges, providing shelter for women who are in serious abusive situations, and for providing these women with free cell phones.

End the silence.

Save your life.

Don’t allow your life to be reduced to being just another statistic.

You know what you need, don’t you? You need to get laid.

Following the sound of a familiar shout, Bree Sexton smiled as she turned to face one of her best friends with amusement. It was difficult to have a heart-to-heart conversation with the girls while there were hordes of half-naked men and women dancing and practically having sex right there on the dance floor, while pulsating rock music is blaring in your ears.

She couldn’t believe she had allowed herself to be dragged out by her two best friends to this seedy bar to celebrate her divorce. She sighed, and then a small, secret smile flittered across her face. The papers were signed. She was divorced. She was finally free to do what she wanted, when she wanted. After five years of pure hell, she was no longer married to the man who had controlled every aspect of her life for far too long. She was free of him once and for all. And even though it probably shouldn’t, it felt terrific. She had no one to answer to, no one to dictate to her what she should do.

No one to hit her when she didn’t follow all his rules.

She had met Bryan Sexton when she was only twenty-five years old. He’d been a considerate and generous man who’d swept her off her feet. He had wined her and dined her, making her feel as though she were a fairy-tale princess. He had taken her out to all of the expensive restaurants and bought her jewelry. He had seemed to be in tune to her every thought, feeling, and wish. He had completely won her over.

She had never even suspected the evil that was lurking beneath the surface.

Bree shook her head in disbelief. Even now, years later, she wondered how she could have been so stupid. She had been engaged at the time to her childhood sweetheart, Scott Weston. She had broken up with Scott shortly after meeting Bryan, and to this day, she regretted that hasty decision.

Scott Weston had been the love of her life. They had been friends since elementary school and had dated since their freshman year in high school. The day he had proposed was one of the happiest days of her life. He had been everything that Bryan wasn’t: he was a good listener, he loved children, and he made her feel like she was cherished and loved. To this day, she couldn’t believe she had been foolish enough to break his heart. A memory of their dating years flashed through her mind.

It was the night of their high school graduation and she had been nervous because she was the valedictorian. She stood at the podium, terrified about the speech she was getting ready to give. She looked around the gymnasium filled with people and her heart plummeted when she discovered that neither one of her parents had bothered to show up. Tears had filled her eyes, and in that instant, she was terribly and utterly alone. Then she heard the sound of her name being called out from the crowd. She looked out over the sea of people, and she saw them. Scott’s family. They were all out there, cheering her on. His sister and brother, and both of his parents, who had given her all the love she had always longed for from her own parents.

Then her gaze suddenly found his. Scott. The one person who loved her no matter what. He was sitting with the other graduates in their class, and in front of all of his friends, he blew her a kiss. She blushed when she saw the teasing he was getting from their classmates, but he didn’t seem to care.

That’s my baby! he shouted, as loud as he could. That’s my baby!

She could still hear the sound of his voice in her mind.

Bree looked over at her friends. They were deep in conversation so she pulled her coat across her shoulders and headed for the exit. She had had enough fun for one night. Now all she wanted to do was to go home, change into her warmest flannel nightgown, and lie down with a good book, preferably a mystery. She wasn’t really in the mood for one of her romance novels tonight.

She tied the belt around her camel-colored coat and wrapped her red scarf around her neck.

She walked out the door at the same time as someone else, and her body pressed against a strange man’s. Oh, I’m sorry, she apologized, and then she looked up.

Bree? I can’t believe it’s really you! You look incredible!

Her breath caught in her throat as she found herself face-to-face with the man who had consumed her thoughts all night. Hi, Scott, she whispered. How are you?

A warm smile spread across his face as he stared at her. At six-feet-one, he had always towered over her. And he was just as good-looking as she remembered, maybe even more. His dark brown hair was tousled from the strong wind that had raged outside, and his chocolate brown eyes gazed into hers. Familiar warmth spread through her body. He still affected her, just like he always had.

I’m great. Did you hear that I got married?

Bree’s heart dropped. No, I hadn’t heard. Congratulations. She tried to muster up some enthusiasm.

Scott ran a hand through his windblown hair and gave Bree a crooked smile. He held up his left hand for her inspection. Yeah, been married two years in March. In fact, got a baby due next month.

Good. I’m happy for you. She hoped she sounded convincing.

Apparently she did because he nodded. Thank you. He nodded his head toward the door. I’m just on my way out. Do you remember my brother, Luke? At Bree’s nod, he continued, He’s getting married, so we all met for a drink after work. They’re having his bachelor party at a strip club later, but you know me, that’s really not my scene. What are you doing here?

Jade and Heather dragged me down here to celebrate my divorce being finalized today.

Scott frowned. I’m sorry to hear that, Bree. I want you to know I was never bitter about what happened with us. I’ll admit, I felt hurt and betrayed at first because I really and truly loved you. I had just always hoped you’d find happiness.

She tried to swallow around the lump that was lodged in her throat. She felt like crying. Thank you, she murmured. You’ll never know how much that means to me.

He reached over and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her against his muscled chest. She inhaled, smelling the musky scent of his cologne, and she couldn’t help but grin. Even after all this time, he still used the same cologne he had used back then.

Her hands trembled as she nervously wound her arms around his neck. She was sixteen years old. A dozen thoughts ran through her mind. Should she close her eyes or leave them open? Should she have brushed her teeth again or at least used a breath mint? What if she wasn’t a good kisser? What if she was lousy at it? Would Scott dump her if this kiss didn’t meet his expectations?

Then it was too late for her worries and second thoughts. His fingers reached for a wayward lock of her auburn hair. He wound the errant curl around the delicate shell of her ear. She closed her eyes as the musky scent of his cologne reached her nostrils. His mouth came down to meets hers, and for the first time in her life, Bree Montgomery glimpsed a sliver of Heaven.

Kissing her on the forehead, he whispered, Keep your chin up, gorgeous. He released her and then looked down at his watch. Scott snapped his fingers as though he had just remembered something. Oh, I need to get going. I promised Monica I’d pick up some things at the grocery store. He gave Bree a lopsided grin that made her heart do flip flops. "One of those things is a half-gallon of Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream, and I’ve learned from personal experience not to keep a pregnant woman from her ice cream." He gave her another grin as he waved good-bye and then turned and walked away.

Bree stood there for a minute, watching as he walked out of her life. She couldn’t help but to wonder what would have happened if she had married Scott instead of Bryan. How would her life have been different? Would she have had children by now? Would she and Scott still be together, after all this time?

Those thoughts and more weighed heavily on her mind as she headed out of the bar. It had begun to snow, and she wrapped her coat even tighter around her slender frame. She looked around, but there was no one to be found. She couldn’t help herself; she stuck out her tongue to taste a snowflake, a childish impulse she couldn’t ignore, and then laughed out loud in spite of herself.

She looked both ways before attempting to cross the street. Not seeing any cars, she began to make her way across. Bree was walking slowly and cautiously when one of her high heels slipped on a patch of ice. She could feel herself falling, and her breathing quickened in response as she started to panic, suddenly wishing that she had waited for her friends before venturing off on her own. One shoe flew off as she landed, her head striking against the curb. A sharp pain racked through the back of her skull and she cried out. The last thing she saw was Scott’s face swimming before her eyes, and then her world went black.

Bree awoke to a man nipping gently on her earlobe, his tongue stroking the delicate curves. His hot breath blew into her ear, sending shivers racing up and down her spine. She slowly opened her eyes as a man’s hand caressed her upper thigh, and she sighed happily.

Ooh, I must be dreaming. And it was such a delicious dream, too.

The stranger’s hand traveled up her thigh and then encircled her flat stomach. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see a dark head pushing against her abdomen. Then she shivered as a tongue laved her belly button, going in and out erotically, making her feel as though her body

was on fire. Bryan had never made her feel like this, and she hadn’t even looked yet to see who this mystery man was! But she was only dreaming, so what difference did it make?

His hand continued traveling north, lovingly caressing her skin. He reached for her aching breasts, rubbing her nipples roughly before he lowered his wicked mouth to suckle them, first one, and then the other. Bree arched in anxious response to his touch. She longed to see his face, but she feared that one look would make his magical touch disappear.

She was aching all over, she wanted his hands to caress her everywhere, and she desperately wanted to touch him. She opened her long legs willingly as his strong legs straddled her. His hair brushed across her naked chest as he began kissing her neck. His tongue was driving her crazy with desire as he placed tender kisses along the slope of her neckline. He brushed her hair aside, her auburn tresses falling in soft waves down her back.

His morning stubble stung her delicate skin, but she hungered for more. Just one more touch, just one more taste, and she would awaken from this wonderful dream and find herself in bed, all alone.

Oh, Bree, baby. What you do to me, the man whispered, his tone husky.

That voice jerked her back to the present. The voice that had haunted her dreams for years. The voice of the man she just couldn’t seem to get over.

Scott, she whispered. What am I doing here?

He looked at her with that lopsided grin that nearly had Bree’s heart leaping out of her chest. Heavens, she loved him so much. She hadn’t realized just how much until now.

Bree grabbed the sheet and pressed it against her naked body, suddenly embarrassed by her wanton display. Scott was married, so what was he doing in bed with her? Unless she was still dreaming…

He was looking at her as though she had lost her mind. And maybe she had. His warm brown eyes appeared to be laughing at her, trying to figure out what