Rekindle Read online

  rekindle

  an engine 24 novel

  MORGAN NICOLE

  REKINDLE

  Morgan Nicole

  Copyright © 2015 Leia Mattson and Savanna Phillips as Morgan Nicole

  Cover Designer: Najla Qamber Designs

  Editor: Indie Solutions by Murphy Rae

  Formatter: Ready, Set, Edit

  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 publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction.

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

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy

  Playlist:

  Shut Up and Drive – Rihanna

  Through Glass – Stone Sour

  Blank Space – Taylor Swift

  The House That Built Me – Miranda Lambert

  Ice Ice Baby – Vanilla Ice

  Sugar – Maroon 5

  Safe and Sound – Capital Cities

  Cockiness – Rihanna

  Dilemma – Nelly ft. Kelly Rowland

  I Can’t Do This – Plumb

  Car Radio – Twenty-One Pilots

  Love is War – American Young

  This Love – Taylor Swift

  Thinking Out Loud – Ed Sheeran

  DEDICATION:

  To Our Dads, Roy and Bryan.

  Our heroes

  Our protectors

  Our first true loves

  This one is for you.

  We love you.

  Prologue

  Fifteen years ago…

  “It’s going to be just fine, sweetheart. You’ll see. Trust me?” Linda asks me.

  I do trust Linda. She has been the one constant thing in my life the past two years, and I know she always wants what’s best for me. I nod my head to her. She moves her hand from my shoulder to my cheek and kisses me on the top of my head.

  “Can I go out to the treehouse now?” I plead.

  “Sure, sweetheart. Just be back before dinner.” She smiles at me, but her smile looks sad. I’m sure it matches my own.

  I run through the screen door at the back of the kitchen and through the bright green grass in the backyard, my focus solely on the large oak tree with the treehouse attached. I climb as fast as I can and dive through the makeshift door. Moving to the far side of the back wall, I climb on the red beanbag that’s sitting in the corner and reach for the book that’s hidden underneath. I pull out the picture that has been buried between the pages and look at my mom and dad. I don’t remember my dad. Mom always said he went to be an angel before I was born. But I remember my mom. She was so pretty. I miss her so much. I don’t know how long I sit here, looking at the picture that Linda gave me years ago. I am so afraid I’m going to forget her, and I don’t want forget her.

  “M&M! Are you up here?” I hear Rhett calling me. The door to the treehouse squeaks, and his head pokes through. Rhett has been my best friend for as long as I remember. My mom used to tell me we were friends before we were born, and we’ve been inseparable since the day I was born. “What’s wrong, M&M?” he asks. Rhett has called me M&M for as long as I can remember too. When we were little, he couldn’t say Emma, and the nickname just stuck.

  I look over at him and smile the best I can. “Linda says I’m getting adopted. That family that was here the other week, for some reason, they’re just fine adopting an eleven-year-old and not a baby,” I tell him. I’m still not sure how I feel about this. I’m happy and sad at the same time. I loved my mom so much. I remember that, but I don’t know this new couple that well. I don’t know what will be expected of me or how our relationship will be, or even where we will live. “She said that I’m going to live with them next week, and I’m scared, Rhett. I don’t want to leave Linda. I don’t want to leave here. I don’t want to leave you,” I finish on a whisper, holding back my tears. I refuse to cry. Everybody laughs at girls for crying because we’re ‘babies.’

  Rhett just sits there for a minute, looking at me. “You’re gonna love this new family, M. I just know it!” he says with much more excitement than I feel. I nod my head and look back down at the picture in my hands. Rhett slides next to me on the beanbag and puts his arm around my shoulders.

  He sees the picture in my hands. He knows how scared I am, and I hate that. I used to never be scared, and now it feels like everything makes me scared. The thing is, even at eleven years old, I know how fast things can change. Like one minute, everything is fine and you’re happy and getting ice cream with your mom. The next minute, you wake up and your arm is hurt and your mom is gone. You don’t have a mom anymore, they tell you. You go to live with a “foster mom” like Linda. And Linda is sweet and nice and gives great hugs, but she isn’t your mom. I know, because those exact thoughts ran through my mind right before my ninth birthday. It’s been exactly two years since I went through all that change. I was just starting to get used to everything—being motherless and all—and now it’s all changing again. Only this time, I don’t get to stay in the same town or the same school.

  “What if my new school is terrible and full of people like Megan Masters? What if I don’t make any more friends? Who’s gonna be my best friend, Rhett?” I fire off questions, my chest getting heavy. My hands start shaking. I hate when this happens. It happens a lot now, ever since Mom died. My knee starts bouncing up and down too.

  Rhett squeezes me tighter. “Hey, M&M. It’s okay. You’ll make lots of friends. You’re way smart. All of the girls will like you because you’re really nice. And the guys will like you because you’re super pretty.” He nudges my shoulder and continues, “And I’ll always be your best friend, M&M. You don’t need a new one of those.”

  I smile. Finally, a real smile. He’s right. Rhett will always be my best friend, even if we don’t live close to each other anymore. I believe him, because he’s never lied to me before. Not even when my mom died. He just told me the truth: that life happens and sometimes things just suck. He told me it was okay to cry and he would be strong for me when I couldn’t be strong for myself. My hands stop shaking and my chest isn’t as heavy. “You’re right,” I say. “We will always be best friends. Forever.” I smile.

  “And ever,” Rhett finishes.

  I hear Linda yelling for me from the back porch. Shoot! It’s dinnertime and I’m still in the treehouse. I crawl across the floor and stick my head out of the door. “COMING!” I yell, so she won’t worry. I look back at Rhett. “Wanna come have dinner with Linda and me?” I ask. “She ordered pizza from Roma’s!”

  He smiles so big I think his face might break, and nods frantically. Roma’s is his favorite pizza ever. “C’mon, then. Let’s go,” I say as I scurry down the wooden steps. He follows quickly behind me. We both jump down from the last two steps.

  “Last one to the back porch has to give up their dessert!” he shouts as he runs past me. Oh, no way! Linda always makes the best dessert. Always. I take off as fast as my legs will carry me.

  When I reach the bottom step of the back porch, I put my hands on my knees to catch my bre
ath. I’m laughing so hard and my chest is heaving from running so fast. Rhett flings himself down next to me. “I was just kidding about that, M,” he pants.

  I laugh again. “Yeah, yeah. You know I always win, Rhett.”

  He rolls his eyes and gets to his feet. “Whatever. I let you win, ‘cause you’re a girl and you’re my best friend. It would be mean if I beat you.”

  We walk in and sit down to have dinner. The house smells so good, just like the gooey pepperoni pizza that’s on the counter. Linda brings us our plates and sits down at the head of the table. She asks us about our day and what happened at school. She hangs on to every word like the lives of two eleven-year-olds are the most interesting things she has ever heard about. I take a big bite of pizza and listen as Rhett tells her all about how Mrs. McAlister told the funniest story today. I laugh along with them, and I know that nothing could be better than this: my best friend and Linda here with me, all together, laughing and eating the best pizza. I wish Linda could just adopt me. Suddenly, I’m not so sure about my new “parents,” but Linda said it would be fine. And Rhett said we will always be best friends. So I know everything will be okay. It just has to be.

  Chapter One

  Present Day…

  Emma Grace

  Hell’s bells.

  I cannot find anything in this godforsaken mess! Where is the coffee maker? Just where?

  “Cameron Lynn!” I yell across our apartment, trying to get my roommate’s attention. “Where did you put the coffee?”

  Cam pops her head out between the stacks of boxes strewn all over our living room and kitchen. “Uh…I think we packed that last night. Didn’t we? I don’t even know anymore, Emma Grace, but have no fear; the movers will be here soon, and we’ll be sure to stop by Lola’s on our way out.”

  Ah, Lola’s. My favorite coffee in a fifty-mile radius. It’s probably the thing I’m going to miss most about Chicago. That’s a lie. I will miss everything about Chicago. It’s been my home for so long now; living on Tillman’s Corner feels like it was a lifetime ago—almost like it was a dream. But here I stand, packing up and heading right back after almost 15 years.

  After graduating and being introduced to the “real world” for a few years, Cam and I decided we needed a change of scenery. Born and raised in Chicago, Cam wanted to go somewhere different. She’s heard me talk about Alabama, about the small towns and festivals that I remember, about the big yards and swimming holes. But mostly, she’s heard me talk about the people—Linda and Mrs. McAlister and their silly jokes and warm hugs, the friendly owner of the ice cream parlor who always remembered your birthday and would give you free treats that day. And Rhett. I may not remember a lot about a childhood that seems so long ago, but every memory I do have is attached to Rhett. It’s amazing how much you can miss someone, even after so long. I miss my mother every single day. And I miss Rhett, maybe even more. The thing is, I know Mom is gone. She isn’t coming back; I accepted that fact a long time ago. I still feel the loss, but the pain lessens a little more with each day.

  Rhett, on the other hand—I left him alive and well. I imagine him all grown up, doing something fantastic with his life. I think about the promises we made to each other, all of the things we said we were going to do together. I wonder if he’s done them alone, like I have, or if he’s had someone by his side. Rhett knew me better than anyone else. He held my hand at my mom’s funeral and calmed me when my panic attacks started shortly after. I know that I have constructed the most unrealistic fantasies in my head of the man that he’s become, but I can’t help it. When I first moved to Chicago with Meems and Pops, my memories of Rhett were my security blanket. I could hear him in my head, telling me it was all going to be okay. I imagine him now—strong, smart, accomplished….

  “Tits McGee! Wake up! The movers are here to load the truck. We’ve got to get a move on!” Cam shouts while clapping at my back, successfully shaking me from my trip down memory lane.

  “Alright! Alright! Let’s do this thing,” I respond with a smile.

  Two hours later, we’re loaded and ready to go. As we stand in the threshold of our crappy apartment, I’m overcome with a strong feeling of nostalgia. I glance at Cam and see her eyes are misted over too. This hole in the wall has been our home for the past five years. Leaving it is going to be harder than I thought. Cam throws her arms around me, and we both let the silent tears fall. I take a deep breath. Someone has got to end this sappy moment. Pronto.

  And then it comes to me—exactly what I need to do. “I’m in a glass case of emotion!” I wail and fling myself across Cam’s body, pretending to sob.

  She goes stiff. “Did…did you…?” I back up and look at her as she tries to compose a sentence, holding back a smile the best I can. “Anchorman! Really, Emma Grace? Five years of memories, and you’re leaving it with an Anchorman quote! I shouldn’t even give you points for that one!”

  We both start laughing. For years, Cam and I have integrated movie lines into our daily conversations. It started naturally one day, and we’ve just never stopped. Somewhere along the line, we started assigning points. They are completely irrelevant, but it’s our thing, whether anyone gets it or not. “Oh, c’mon! Will Ferrell is awesome and you know it. I firmly believe his comedic genius should have been recognized by the Academy.” I defend my choice with a smile on my face.

  “Yeah, yeah. Trust me, we know all about your crush on the great man-child.” She smirks as we grab our purses and head to the U-Haul.

  “Listen, whore-balls, I swear to you, if we don’t pull over in the next five minutes…I. Am. Going. To. Die. Seriously. My freaking bladder is going to bust. I mean, can you imagine the contents of my bladder splashed all over this U-Haul? Think of the extra cleaning charges we’re going to have to pay. It’s almost absurd when you think about it. Honestly, when you could just pull over in the next—”

  “CAM! I got it! Chill, chica! I will pull off at the next exit and we’ll stop for the night.” I cut off her endless rant, smiling so she knows I’m not really frustrated. She literally squeals with excitement. I have to hand it to her, for someone who can’t sit still for more than five minutes, she’s done really well. It does feel like we’ve been driving for days, but we’ve made it from Chicago to right outside of Nashville. If we stop tonight, we’ll be in Mobile by midafternoon tomorrow.

  We pull into the closest hotel we can find off the interstate and crash for the night. It feels like heaven to be able to stretch our legs. Meems and Pops tried to tell us we could make the whole trip in one long haul—umm, yeah…right. Our pit stops have been frequent because, let’s be honest, between the two of us, we have more pent-up energy than we know what to do with. Granted, there are nights that we spend vegging out in front of the TV, watching corny movies and eating popcorn, but for the most part, Cam and I are fairly active. It’s hard for us to not have the option to move around.

  It feels like minutes—not hours—and we’re back on the road again first thing in the morning. Only this time, the drive won’t be quite as long. And when we get to our apartment, we won’t have to move again. Definitely a comforting thought.

  “Ahh! Emma Grace! Look! We are home! Finally! And our apartment is totally fetch,” Cam says slyly, glancing at me.

  “I know! I’m so excited. And Cam, quit trying to make ‘fetch’ happen. It’s never going to happen.” I smile.

  “Touché, my dear. Touché.” She laughs and hops from the U-Haul, throws her hands on her hips, and looks up toward our condo.

  Putting her hand over her eyes to shield the sun, she looks my way. “It is pretty perfect, Emma Grace. It feels like home already—” she pauses and takes a deep breath “—except it’s 10 degrees hotter than hell around here. You didn’t tell me we were moving to the Sahara!”

  I laugh and turn my face to the sun. Man, the fresh air and warm sun on my skin are fantastic. “Let’s go check out our place before we start unpacking,” I suggest as I reach into the truck and find th
e condo key that’s buried in my purse.

  We walk into the condo and take a look around. The front door opens to a teeny-tiny foyer that opens to a large living area. The living room and dining room are just one giant space, and the only thing that separates the kitchen from it is the counter bar. I am instantly in love with all of the space! Where our apartment in Chicago was so cramped we barely had room for all of our things, we might be hard-pressed to fill up this place.

  We both stand for a moment, slack-jawed and taking it in, when Cam takes off running. “First one to the biggest bedroom gets it!” she shouts over her shoulder. I start running as soon as my brain registers what she said.

  By the time I get to her, she’s lying in the middle of the floor in one of the bedrooms. “You suck giant monkey balls!” I say, mock glaring at her. “You can’t start running, THEN dictate the terms of the race. That’s just ridiculous,” I huff. “And cheating!” I add for good measure.

  She sits up on her elbows to look at me. “You’re right. It was a bitch move. I’m sorry. To make it up to you, you can buy us pizza for dinner,” she says, trying to placate me.

  “Okay,” I agree immediately, but I rethink my quick response when I see her smirk turn into a smile. “Oh, no freaking way! YOU buy dinner. Not ME! Shit, are you ever fair?” I question.

  “Not if I can help it,” she responds and reaches out for my hand. I pull her to her feet, and we head out to start unloading our mounds upon mounds of crap.

  It’s closing in on dusk. We’ve been in and out of our condo for hours, unloading and organizing the best we can. We’re down to just a few more trips—at least I hope we are. A little red coupe flies into the parking lot and swings into the space next to the U-Haul, nearly taking me out.