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  Slide

  Title Page

  PROLOGUE

  C HAPTER 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

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  PROLOGUE

  Title: Slide Author: Michelle Congdon

  Publication Date: 25th November 2013

  Ages: 18+

  Classification: New Adult; Contemporary Romance

  For information, contact Michelle at: [email protected]

  ADVANCED READING COPY- NOT FOR SALE

  Slide

  By

  Michelle Congdon

  PROLOGUE

  There is a deafening sound ringing through my ears. All around me a thick, gray cloud is preventing me from seeing anything further than the front of my nose. The strong smell of burning rubber is in the air, causing each breath I take to be more painful than the last as I inhale the toxic fumes. My head is pounding as I frantically try to recall the earlier events, but come up with nothing. With a shaky, frail hand I reach up and touch the top of my head where it hurts the most, wincing from the sharp pain it causes when I do. My hand becomes all wet and sticky. I know what it is right away. It’s blood.

  Small chunks of crumbled glass press into my youthful hands as I begin to feel around the small, confined space I’m trapped in. I instantly recognize the firm leather, the thin cotton material of my summer dress and some form of restraint that is strapped across my chest…

  The memories burst through and flood my mind. I’m in a car― my mother’s car.

  I’m sure I call out for my mom and my brother then, but I can’t hear my voice; I can’t hear anything over the deafening sound of the car horn.

  A sudden explosion from somewhere in front violently shakes everything around me. I grip the seatbelt strapped to me for support and force myself to be brave. Brave, just like my older brothers are.

  I watch a bright, orange light appear through the thick, dirty haze and everything then starts to get hot. Fire… Help! My mouth opens. I feel the words but I don’t hear them. I struggle with the seatbelt, ignoring the shooting pains in my arms. It’s no use. I can’t get free. I’m trapped.

  The air around me thins, making it harder to breath. I’m coughing now, trying desperately to stop more smoke from filling my lungs. Heat licks at my skin, becoming hotter as each moment passes.

  Another explosion shakes me and the fire ahead grows larger.

  The deafening sound finally stops.

  I’ve never been much of a crier, but I’m terrified right now and can’t stop the tears from falling down my face. I’m no longer able to breathe. My head is dizzy so I start to close my eyes and let happy memories of my short childhood and of my family flood my mind… Suddenly, large hands envelop mine.

  “Evie? Can you hear me?” It’s my brother.

  “Alex?” The words barely come out but I force myself to stay awake.

  “Oh, Evie. Thank god.” I notice a sense of relief in my brother's weak voice. “Listen to me. I need you to get out of here, okay? I want you to get out and run as fast as you can, okay? Don’t turn back, Evie, not for anything. Can you promise me that?” he says, fumbling with my seat beat. There’s something frightening in Alex’s voice, but I don’t hesitate to obey my big brother’s words.

  “Go!” he says once I’m free. “Be brave and remember that I love you always…” I hear him whisper the words weakly before I begin to crawl free from the twisted, metal wreck and broken glass.

  Remembering my brother’s words, I don’t stop until a pair of unfamiliar hands grab at me and pull me upwards. It is only then that I finally allow myself to welcome the fresh, cool night air.

  Strange voices begin speaking over the top of one another but the sound of yet another explosion silences them immediately.

  I spin around to face what I already know deep down inside and my chest constricts at the sight I see. The Mercedes belonging to my mom is nothing more than a pile of burning rubber and warped metal, wrapped around a tall street lamp in the middle of New York City.

  Behind the twisted mess, I see small crowds of people keeping their distance and shielding their eyes from the bright light and heat coming from the fire. I hear sirens wail in the distance, while the red and blue lights of the fire trucks already parked nearby light up the clear winter night.

  I start to feel dizzy again—

  “Are you alright little girl?” A male voice asks behind me just as I feel a firm tug at my shoulders. “I need to take you to the paramedics.”

  “No! I can’t leave Mommy… Alex…” I choke out. My eyes are glued to my front, mesmerized by the blazing wreck.

  “There’s nothing we can do for them now. I’m so sorry.”

  My vision blurs. Fresh tears fall down my face as a harrowing and powerful emotion, stronger than any pain I’ve ever endured in my short life, grips my entire body. I try to rush forward but the strong, firm arm holds me back. I try screaming out for my mother and for my brother, calling their names until my voice goes sore, in hopes that they hear me.

  I manage to struggle free from the man’s grasp, getting as far as two small steps before the last and final explosion engulfs the car.

  CHAPTER 1

  I woke with a loud gasp. It is just a nightmare, I repeated to myself. But no matter how much I tried to convince myself it was just a terrifying story conjured up in my head, I knew the vivid images weren’t going to go away that easily. Because the truth was, it wasn’t the first time I have had this nightmare. For the past twelve years, whenever I closed my eyes, the same scene would play through in my mind until I’d be forced awake, either by gasping for air or choking on my own tears.

  The chilly air against my sweat covered skin made me shiver, while my heart thumped wildly inside my chest. I took a deep breath and reminded myself of where I really was: on a plane and headed for New York― the one place I dreaded the most and I hadn’t been back to, until now.

  I decided to close my eyes for a moment and concentrate on trying to steady my heart rate before reaching for the assistance button.

  An attendant was by my side almost immediately.

  “Is there anything I can get for you, Ms. Montgomery?” The cheerful blond air hostess beamed.

  “Just a glass of San Pellegrino, thanks,” I replied tilting my head slightly so I could see her. “Oh, and could I please also get a washcloth?”

  “Of course.”

  The air hostess smiled an over polite smile which I translated as someone who had either been in their job for far too long or despised serving people like me. It would not at all surprise me if the answer were the second of the two. Jennifer, as the name on her name badge stated, wasn’t the first person I’d come across to have this reaction. If I had to be honest, this type of thing happened on a regular occurrence. I didn’t let it bother me though; I’d learned to ignore the stares and whispers that came with having the family name a long time ago.

  My family came from money, a great deal
of it, but that didn’t mean we all lived a blissfully perfect life. We had our own heartache and tragedy to bear. It was constantly being in the media eye that taught me to shut myself away. They all wanted to talk about that fateful night many years ago but I refused to speak to anyone, other than my therapist— who was still trying hard to mend the pieces together.

  The air hostess returned with my water and washcloth.

  “Here you go, ma’am… Are you feeling alright?”

  I paused between saying ‘thank you’. She’d caught me off guard but I managed to quickly regain my composure before asking, “Why do you ask?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing I’m sure. I just noticed that you were talking in your sleep earlier.”

  Although she sounded genuine about it, I couldn’t help but notice the glimmer of amusement in her eye from seeing me grow uncomfortable.

  “I guess I was dreaming, that’s all. I hope I didn’t disturb anyone,” I answered, clearing my throat.

  “Doubt it. Mr. Sheppard, in front, hasn’t taken his eyes off his laptop and Mr. Renaldi is snoring soundly behind you. I don’t think they even noticed.”

  I gave her a quick smile before my eyes scanned the other first class passengers. She was right; they were minding their own business.

  Jennifer gave me a pat on the shoulder just as the captain’s voice boomed through the speakers of the cabin, announcing the start of our descent into LaGuardia Airport.

  Panic began to set in. I was less than an hour away from touching down in New York. I hadn’t been back to the East Coast in twelve years and had no plans of ever returning.

  Right after the accident, my surviving brother and I were sent to live with our grandparents in Newport, as our father struggled to come to terms with losing his oldest child and beloved wife. He submerged himself in work, flying in and out of the country without warning and never once came to visit. As soon as my brother, Connor, turned eighteen, he packed up and left to study and work with my father in New York, leaving me behind with Gran and Pop. Connor flew back every chance he could and made sure he was back to celebrate Thanksgiving, Christmas and my birthday each year. My father, however, was a different story. He’d started a new family, one I was yet to meet, and forgot all about the daughter he’d left behind.

  Six years ago, my father, the great Rupert Montgomery, found a woman who was forty-two years his junior. Even though he refused to marry again, the couple shared two young children together. Connor had nicknamed our father’s girlfriend, Goldie, after the term ‘gold-digger’, and claimed that she was only with our father because of his multi-billion dollar bank account. I couldn’t agree with him more.

  With close to no contact in twelve years, except for money transfers that I labeled as ‘guilt money’, I often wondered why my father was suddenly requesting my presence back in his life. Though, I already knew the answer to that; it was because he was sick.

  At seventy, Rupert Harrison Montgomery— multi-billionaire, and since my mom passed away became the sole owner of over four thousand custom luxury clothing stores all over the world— looked more like a weak ninety year old. I knew this because the pictures of him plastered in newspapers and the Internet were hard to miss.

  When my father first fell ill, he’d handed control of the business to Connor, and from the stories I’d read about, my brother was doing a fantastic job. I was so proud of him.

  The captain’s throaty voice boomed through the speakers again, startling me. “Flight attendants, prepare for landing.” Followed immediately by, “Ladies and Gentleman, we have just been cleared to land at the LaGuardia Airport. Please make sure one last time your seat belt is securely fastened. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabins to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining unwanted items. Thank you.”

  My skin prickled. My stomach twisted and turned. My heart raced as though I’d just finished running a marathon. This is it, Evangeline. You’re twenty-two. It’s time to grow up.

  ****

  My nerves eventually settled when I spotted Connor waiting for me inside the airport lounge. Dressed in a fine dark, three-piece Armani suit, a charcoal dress shirt and a bright red, silk tie, my brother looked suave. A huge smile stretched across my face as he ran up to greet me with open arms. Catching me, he spun me around and planted a huge kiss on my cheek, causing his stubble to tickle me in the process.

  “Evie, it’s so good to see you. Look at you, I’m loving this new hair,” he’d said once I was back on my two feet. He picked up a chunk of my hair and grinned, causing the dimples in both his cheeks to pop out. Oh, how I missed that grin.

  “And you look exactly the same, Con. Still unkempt and hideously dressed.” I winked and gave him a cheeky grin.

  He snorted, rolled his eyes and playfully punched my arm. I enjoyed teasing Connor about the way he looked, because the truth was he was always impeccably dressed and well groomed; he would never leave the house otherwise.

  Connor was the splitting image of my father during his younger years. His short, dark, stylish hair was a nice contrast to his deep green eyes. I, on the other hand, with my naturally wavy, light brown hair and hazel eyes, took after my mother, as did our oldest brother, Alexander.

  Through my teenage years, I often thought my looks were the reason behind my father’s resentment towards me. Thinking that perhaps he wasn’t able to handle staring into the face of someone who resembled what he’d lost so dearly. Or maybe it’s because he knew you killed them!

  “Come on sis, Amelie is very excited to see you.” Connor took hold of my hand and we began making our way through the lounge.

  Amelie was an old high school friend of Connor’s from Newport. She was now a highly successful interior designer and also my brother’s gorgeous fiancée.

  “Wait until you see what she has done with your apartment, Evie. It’s brilliant. You’re going to love it. But unfortunately you don’t get to see it until tomorrow because she’s planned a big dinner over at our place to celebrate your arrival.”

  “And we both know how she gets if we’re late to one of her dinners.”

  We gave each other a knowing look before breaking out into a laugh.

  “Oh and before I forget, Derek took the night off just for you,” my brother added.

  “Really? He lied to me and told me he wasn’t going to be able to see me for days.”

  “He’ll be there, Evie. When have you known him to miss a party?” Connor made a very valid point.

  We both chuckled at the expense of my friend Derek. The huge, flamboyant African-American liked to party more than he liked to change his underwear. Gross, but it was a very true fact.

  Derek Wright was a very old friend from high school. Besides my grandparents, Connor and our younger twin cousins, Hunter and Willah, the only other person I confided in was Derek. We became friends after we had to partner up for a Science project one year. It wasn’t an immediate friendship, since I was quiet and liked to keep to myself while Derek was loud and was friends with just about everybody, but over that summer our friendship grew. Most importantly, he never pushed me into telling him about the accident— although, years later he confessed that he’d gone to speak with Gran and Pop, promising it was only so that he didn’t end up saying the wrong thing around me.

  Derek had recently moved to NYC six months ago to chase his dream of Broadway… and partying. So far he loved it, but was overly thrilled when I’d called to say I was coming to stay in New York indefinitely. He now had a partner in crime to drag along to all the exclusive shows and after parties he got invited to. I didn’t bother mentioning that I had planned to stay in my apartment the entire time I was visiting New York. When it came to Derek, some things were best discussed face to face.

  CHAPTER 2

  A lot had changed in New York after twelve years. The streets were far busier with traffic and tourists, there were new buildings on almost every block, and it seemed that the city had become overrun with
giant posters of half naked models. Whether everything had remained the same and I was just unaware of these sorts of things as a child, or I’d chosen to block out all the memories I had of New York after the accident, I still couldn’t quite understand the logic of covering the city in posters using the same four models for every advert. Surely there were many beautiful faces to choose from? Not that I was complaining about the one very mouth-watering view I had of a large billboard with a sexy male model in only Dolce and Gabbana briefs just outside my balcony.

  “This is beyond amazing, Evan. I can see all of Manhattan from up here and look, Central Park!” shouted my best friend, pulling me out of my dreamy state.

  I rolled my eyes and kept a close eye on Derek standing by the edge of the balcony. He stood very straight with his back to me and his arms stretched out either side of him, impersonating a scene from the movie Titanic.

  “I’m the king of the world!” he suddenly shouted at the top of his lungs, reciting one of his favorite lines from the movie. Besides the sounds coming from the loud traffic below, there was no other response. We were up too high and also living in the penthouse apartment meant I had no neighbors to worry about shouting obscene words at him. Thank goodness.

  “You’re mad. Get down from there before I end up having to scrape you off the sidewalk below, Jack Dawson.”

  He shot me a glare from over his shoulder. “That’s nothing near anything Rose would say, Evan. She would join him and they would fall down together,” he said, making a face as though my words had hurt him. That was my best friend for you: over dramatic about everything.

  Derek also had the habit of calling me ‘Evan’. A nickname he chose because he knew I didn’t like the name ‘Evie’. The nickname reminded me so much of what I had lost: my family. The only exception to the nickname was my brother, Connor.

  “Yeah well, I’m nothing like Rose and I’m not willing to move my butt off this seat,” I replied, pointing to the white leather, outdoor day bed I was lying comfortably on. “Anyway, do I need to remind you that it was Rose who selfishly kept the large, floating piece of wood all to herself?” I grinned, staring at him through the dark lenses of my Christian Dior sunglasses while I waited for his response.