Changing Fate (Endgame #5) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright © 2017 by Leigh Ann Lunsford

  Dedication

  Run the Bases

  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

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Epilogue

  Family Tree:

  Acknowledgements

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  OTHER WORKS BY LEIGH ANN LUNSFORD

  Copyright © 2017 by Leigh Ann Lunsford

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the email address below.

  [email protected]

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Edited by Samantha Wiley (Proofreading by the Page)

  Cover Design by Sassy Queens of Design

  Dedication

  John and Evan . . . always and forever.

  And the readers – this one is for you. The love and devotion you’ve showed to this series is beyond anything I could have dreamt. XOXO

  Chapter One

  I watch her disappear from my hospital room, her absence leaves sharp pains shredding my insides. Avery departing brings a different feeling . . . a sensation of doom and dismay inhabits my body. Watching everyone else trickle out, saying their goodbyes, I was anxious, almost relieved. When it comes to her— goodbye is the last thing I want to hear. And that fucking ring dangling from her collar— I’d like to wrap my hands around the neck of the fucker who gave it to her.

  He didn’t have the balls to place it on her finger.

  Dumbass.

  She’s so sensible, I’d bet she didn’t want to wear it while she painted. Afraid the colors and chemicals would destroy the gem . . . that’s the down to earth part of her we all adore. That reason shouldn’t matter— the lucky bastard who landed Avery ought to insist she keep it on at all times, and not worry if the stone was ruined while she did what she loves. If he was worthy of her, he’d offer to buy her a million replacements if that’s what it took to keep it on her finger. I’d do no less.

  That’s how fucking special she is.

  A sharp pain shoots through my skull and I groan as my mom walks in. I can tell she’s been crying. “You in pain?”

  I want to lie, but I can’t. “Yes.”

  “Hit the button. You’ll get medicine, tough guy.” I smile as she takes a seat by my hip, squishing me on this damn tiny bed. Her fingers brush my hair back while her entire body shivers. “God, I was so scared.”

  “It’s fine, Mom. I swear.” I chuckle. “Imagine the stories Mason would have made up if I had total memory loss.” That scary as hell scenario pulls a laugh from her.

  “He’s something else.” I nod. “All of them are.” Her eyes meet mine and I can see something there. Hope. Maybe fear. Maybe sorrow.

  “What?” I sit up and stop when the pain slams through my head at full force.

  “Nothing. Rest please.” She pleads with me.

  “Okay.” I close my eyes, but the only thing I see is a pallet of colors. Bright reds, subtle blues and brilliant oranges— the brightest light of them all is painting broad strokes against a canvas.

  Avery.

  The vision confuses me but I’m sure it’s expected— my head was on the receiving end of a blow from a bat. I’m lucky to be alive— so they say.

  “She’s gonna be okay.” My mom whispers, startling me from the slumber I was close to. I open my eyes to question her, but find myself staring at the glassy eyed look she’s giving me. “You called out for Avery. I’ll make sure she’s okay.”

  I can’t contemplate why I’d call for her as sleep and pain medicine take me into darkness. Both— sleep and pain medicine— become my friends for a few days, and I still have trouble making sense of the vivid dreams starring Avery Michaels. They leave me with an indescribable sensation of being lost, yet when I’m asleep, where she stars in my dreams, I feel safe. At home. At peace.

  The team rotates visiting my room all day and they gawk at me like they’re afraid I’m gonna croak in front of their eyes. I know I haven’t been coherent this week when they’ve been here, but damn, they’re giving me a complex. Deacon and Mason sit vigilant— in silence. As the last person leaves, I turn to them. “Spill it.”

  Mason’s eyes dart side to side; Deacon sighs and shifts his weight from foot to foot. Their tells are loud and clear, so I know they’re avoiding speaking the truth. “Nothing. Just worried the blow to your head left you dumber than you were.” Deacon is the first to lie.

  “Bullshit.” I curse pinning him to his spot with my lethal tone. “Give me my phone.” I’ll find out for myself . . . if it’s drama or something of importance, someone has posted that shit all over social media, using it as their diary.

  “Caden, we can’t tell you. The doctor said you had to remember on your own. He told us after a week he’d reevaluate and see if we can share certain parts of the last four years.” Mason rushes to vomit the excuses.

  “And what am I not remembering that has you two in a tizzy?” I’ll break them with mind games, since I can’t get up and kick their asses.

  “Nah, man. Not cool.” Deacon’s taking that stance. Deflection— amateur. I’ve got something for him.

  I turn to Mason— he’s the weakest when it comes to secrets. Deacon shoves him from the room and reappears alone. “You’re on Mason restriction. That pussy can’t keep his fucking mouth shut and this is for your own good.”

  I chuckle. “Damn. You pulled out the big guns . . . grounding me from playing with him and all.” He smirks and I try to play cool. “Have you seen my bag?” I know it’ll have my phone and laptop.

  “Confiscated.” He’s proud to announce that information. “Take that shit up with your parents.”

  “Bring Mason in.” Fuck this. I’m gonna get answers.

  “I swear, I have two toddlers and y’all act worse than them.” Two? I know better than to request information . . . I know he’s got Julie, or was fixing to have her but that's only one. Fuck— I don’t know shit and it’s evident I can’t get anything from him.

  “Should I know what you’re hiding?” I’m scared to quiz him but need to know.

  “Yeah.” His answer comes in the form of a frustrated sigh, followed by his hands fi
sting. “Fuck, man. Just remember.” His voice is strained. “Please.” I’ve never seen Deacon this close to breaking . . . but he is.

  “Tell me.” My fear is creeping in, restricting my airway, so I begin panting and clawing at my throat.

  “I can’t, but you need to calm the fuck down.” He turns his back to compose himself. Facing me after he gets control, he probes for answers. The same fucking answers everyone solicits. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

  I think back to the last task I remember before waking up here. “Putting together the crib for Julie.” I laugh at the debacle that was. Mason and Deacon insisted they didn’t need instructions. I kicked them outta the room because I was adamant my precious little girl wasn’t going to meet her demise with their shoddy craftsmanship.

  “The week before Spring Break.” He wheezes.

  “Yeah. We’re supposed to go to Colorado. Except you. We’ll miss you.” I stop talking, realizing I’m discussing it like it’s real time . . . but it’s four years ago. Fuck. “This sucks. I’m living in the past because I can’t remember the present . . . just go.” I’m irritated and want to hit something. I don’t trust myself not to drive my fist into him because I’m far from rational.

  “It’ll happen. Just rest.” I nod as he stands there. That word is repeated in this place . . . rest.

  “Go.” I command and he shakes his head as he leaves.

  “If you’re wondering . . . she loves you. And told us the truth.” His words float in the empty space of my room, leaving me clueless.

  Who?

  She?

  What’d she tell them?

  What is the mystery?

  If someone doesn’t tell me pronto, I’m gonna lose my shit. All over their punk asses.

  As evening settles, I hear commotion and voices outside my room. I recognize Avery’s tone and maybe Emberlee’s . . . the other is unfamiliar and some babble that comes from kids. Not being welcome with my headache, and acting like a chicken shit, I close my eyes and pretend to be asleep.

  The door squeaks as it’s pushed open and whining fills the room. “Shhh, baby. Uncle Caden is sleeping.” Uncle Caden . . . what the hell? Emberlee is talking nonsense to some kid.

  “Let’s take her to the cafeteria and we’ll come back and check.” Avery’s voice soothes me and the room fills with silence— for all of thirty seconds.

  “I left two minutes ago and you weren’t sleeping.” My mom opens the window curtains I’d had the nurse pull close.

  “Why was there a kid here?” I mock whisper.

  She holds her finger up to give her a minute as she disappears from my room. Less than five minutes pass and she sweeps back in. “I wanted to get doctor clarification. I’m able to tell you their world, major milestones that happened to them. We can’t force your memories.” I squint in confusion. “Emberlee got pregnant along with Saylor after freshman year.” I shift to sit up.

  “Mason’s?” I’m stupefied. I thought he was with some blonde the other day. “And who is Saylor to us and why do I care she had a baby?” I know she was with Deacon a few days ago— I figured she was a ball bunny.

  “No. Brody.” The name is familiar but that’s it. “Saylor and Deacon got married, she and Emberlee were pregnant at same time. The child you heard— and avoided— is Darby. That’s Emberlee and Brody’s little girl and she thinks you hung the moon. Like Julie is with Mason.”

  “Julie is Deacon and Adriane’s?” I need to clarify.

  “Yes. She was born while you were on Spring Break and the four of you came home to support Deacon. Adriane hauled ass and he met Saylor who was Emberlee and Avery’s roommate freshman year.” This is a lot to take in. “Emberlee had met Brody some time ago— lots of drama but that’s nothing new with that girl. They rekindled during the time she was rekindling her friendship with y’all.”

  “What happened?”

  “I can’t tell you details. She got pregnant, Saylor got pregnant and they had beautiful little girls. Darby and Kinsley. Mason’s girlfriend is Brody’s sister, her name is Brecklynn. She’ll be moving to New York with him next month.”

  “New York? Whoa. Do I like any of these new people?” I hate feeling this helpless.

  “Mason signed last year with the Yankee’s farm team. He was called up a few months ago. He was home to watch yours and Deacon’s last game and propose to Brecklynn. Which he did last night.”

  Mason.

  Engaged.

  What the actual fuck has happened in four years?

  “I’m so confused.”

  “I know, honey. But these are all good things. Through it all, you’ve all remained a unit.” At least there’s that. “Why’d you pretend to be asleep?”

  “Kids. Noise. And looking at my friends, having a lapse of time, I don’t know what to say. It’s never been like this and it feels wrong.” Her eyes mist as sympathy floods her and that’s another emotion I hate. I’m alive. But— something is missing. For years, we were an extension of each other. Today, right now, it feels like it’s them and across the divide is me.

  Alone.

  “Oh, honey. I’m sorry.” She rubs my hand and it makes me crave someone else’s touch . . . but I don’t know who that someone is.

  “Do I have a girlfriend?” Her eyes dart down and I have my answer.

  “I can’t tell you who— but you love someone. A lot.” One statement wrecks me. Makes me question my heart— my mind.

  “If I love them so much, why can’t I remember?” I challenge her and hear a gasp from my door.

  Avery. The sight of her pisses me off— yet, I’m hoping she doesn’t leave.

  “I was just coming to check if you were awake. We’ll come back tomorrow if you’re tired.” She starts to back away and I call out to her.

  “Wait. Just you. I don’t want everyone looking at me like a freak show.” I’m being stubborn and my mom pats my hand and stands.

  “Be nice.” She warns. “I’ll go entertain Lee Lee and Darby.” She addresses Aves.

  “What you mean is. . . you’ll try and kidnap that baby.” She giggles and I want that sound for me. I shake my head— I must have gotten hit harder than I realize, because thoughts like this regarding Avery are bad. Sure, I adored her growing up, fell in love with her in high school but I’ve always been able to control it.

  She makes her way closer and my fingers itch to take hers . . . but I don’t. “Why don’t you want Darby and Emberlee in here? Darby is going crazy missing you.”

  “I don’t know her. Why the hell is that kid attached to me?” My belligerent attitude is pissing me off.

  “Caden Monroe, stop being an asshole. That little girl loves you. She misses you. I know it doesn’t seem like forever to you, but it is to her.” Her cheeks flush and I wish I was responsible for putting that look on her face— while in bed.

  My thoughts are all over the place and I’m losing control. “So, she’s like a dog. They don’t know time either.”

  “I swear to all things holy, if you weren’t in that bed with a head injury, you’d be having surgery to remove my foot from your ass. Pity party for one— in your room.” Her eyes roll and her attitude gets my undivided attention.

  “Repeat that, Picasso?” Her hand flies to her mouth.

  “You remember?” Her smile, tears, and the excitement in her voice, confuse me.

  “Huh?” I furrow my brow. “Remember what?”

  Sadness fills her. I deflated her without knowing what I’ve done. “I-I-I’m gonna go.” I don’t miss her sob. The crack in her voice. She misses the devastation and pain that washes through me as her back is what I’m staring at.

  I stand to go after her; but the wave of dizziness stops me as I grip the rail to keep myself vertical. My eyes catch the table and the bag of gummy bears on top of it.

  Damn it.

  Chapter Two

  I flee his room, blinded by my sorrow. “Aves. Wait!” Lee Lee’s footsteps echo as she chases me, so I push my
self harder. Instead of the elevator, I find the stairs and take them two at a time. I slip from pushing my legs but I manage to stay standing. Pushing on the door at the ground floor,I barrel to the exit so I can inhale fresh air and get the stench of heartbreak erased from my mind.

  “Whoa!” Deacon grabs me as I collide with his chest. “Aves. What’s wrong?” His concern causes his body to tense.

  “H-he-he called me Picasso.” The elevator opens and Emberlee, Bethy and Darby are exiting. “I need air.” He leads me outside and my knees buckle. Deacon scoops me up and walks a few steps until there’s concrete under my ass as Saylor comes around the corner. After one look at us, she takes Darby from Emberlee and puts her in the stroller with Kinsley, waves and rounds a corner towards the park.

  “What the hell, Aves?” Emberlee is pushing my hair from my face, holding me tight and trying to staunch the flow of tears that I’m hemorrhaging from my soul.

  No Band-Aid can fix this.

  No words of wisdom can soothe the ache.

  No promises can mend the gash in my heart.

  Bethy sits close to me, taking my hand. “I called your parents.”

  “Thank you.” I murmur. Seems silly but I want my mom’s lap. My dads’ arms. I want the comfort of my childhood home.

  “He loves you. He can’t forget that. He doesn’t remember what it is, but I promise he’ll come back to you.” She knows her son, and I’m hoping her words hold truth.

  “Thanks.” I lean my head against Deacon’s shoulder and pull Emberlee tight. “Love you guys.”

  “You’re scaring me.” Emberlee says to me.

  “I’m terrified. Being without him shakes me to my core. I can’t imagine it but it’s playing in replay mode through my mind. Taking a machete to my heart would hurt less.”

  “Did he say something?” Deacon queries.

  “He called me Picasso. It was his thing.” I shrug. If we all understand something— it’s nicknames.

  “But he didn’t remember?” He pushes.

  “No. Looked at me like I had two heads.” A fresh wave of gut-wrenching pain works its way inside me.