Brooke & Ben: Before Fate Interrupted by Kaitlyn Cross

and company to come bursting
in at any second, brandishing pitchforks and torches in their angry fists.
    Somebody
screamed.
    No, not somebody . Mandy .
    More glass
shattered. Soft murmurs of consolation floated beneath the crack in the door, a
dark feeling blooming in the pit of Brooke’s stomach. She glanced back to the
window and let the option run its short lived course in her mind. If she
hurried she might still be able to catch him. She released the breath and
buried her face in her hands knowing she could run, but could never hide. Not
for long. She pulled her face away and quietly stomped her boot one time. A tear
rolled down her cheek as her hand found the cool glass knob. It was quiet now.
After a few flip-flopping seconds – spent looking between the window and the
door – Brooke shut her eyes and took a steadying breath that lifted her bosom.
    “Shit,” she
whispered, turning the knob with a sweaty hand.

 
 
 
 
 
    Chapter
Four

 
 
 
 
 
 
    Outside of a
fresh coat of yellow paint and white trim, the three bedroom/two bath ranch looked
the same. Same meticulously trimmed bushes, same porch swing dangling from a tall
oak, and the same extraneous amount of Halloween decorations her dad went
overboard on year after year. The thought of Halloween now made Brooke sick to
her stomach. She had singlehandedly ruined her favorite holiday until the end
of time and would never forgive herself for it.
    A forlorn sigh
escaped her. If she had to come back to this place, she wished it was when the
porch swing used to be a tire swing. Her dad pushing her higher and higher
while making cracks about the tree branch breaking at any second. Running
through the sprinkler with her friends or planting flowers with her mom and sister
until their knees were dark with dirt. Good times. But not like this. Not now.
    A low groan
rattled from her chest as she shut off the red Ford Escape. The suburban
silence settled in around her, thick and heavy with the smell of burning leaves
in the air. She wondered how she would ever explain herself. Hating herself for
having to explain anything.
    Finally, Brooke
got out and retrieved a box from the backseat, using her leg to shut the door.
Her eyes dipped inside the box in her arms, glumly processing what her life now
boiled down to: a purple iPod, a green hairdryer, flat iron, her Kindle Fire
with every Sylvia Day book ever written. Makeup, lotions, and her favorite red
heels and yellow purse now defined her. It left a bad taste in her mouth. She
traipsed up the driveway, feeling like she had gone back in time, passing fake
tombstones in the yard as she went, the cardboard box nearly as heavy as her
legs.
    Balancing the box
on one knee, Brooke found her keys and unlocked the front door. The smell of
lemon Pledge and sausage greeted her as she stepped inside and hip-checked the
door shut. Her parents’ house broke her heart all over again. Not only had she
lost a wonderful friendship, but she had lost her freedom as well. No more cat
naps whenever she felt like. No more pouring a glass of wine at two in the
afternoon because she had the day off and half a mind to. And no more cranking
her iPod dock to eleven while getting ready for a night out with her girls. What
was left of her girls . The way everyone
had moved on with college and careers and babies made her feel left behind. They
were growing up and she was growing down.
    “What are you
doing here?”
    Brooke’s head
snapped down the hallway leading to the kitchen. “What are you doing here?”
    Evy shrugged, a
copy of Cosmopolitan in her hand. “Laundry while mom and dad are at church.”
    “Where’s your
car?”
    “Richie dropped
me off. He’s got paintball, but we’re going to lunch when he’s done if you
wanna come.”
    “No thanks.” Brooke
deposited her prized possessions on a glass sofa table, where her parents set
their car keys and mail just inside the front door.
    Evy shifted in her
lavender heels and