Never Look Back (Coming Home Book 2)

NEVER TURN BACK

Copyright © 2014 by Amy Stephens

All rights reserved

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.

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of Amy Stephens, except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Cover design by Sprinkles on Top Studios

Photo courtesy of Shutterstock/Vita Khorzhevska

Interior formatting by Integrity Formatting

Dedication

Prologue

Part One

Chapter 1 ~ Jennifer

Chapter 2 ~ Brian

Chapter 3 ~ Todd

Chapter 4 ~ Jennifer

Chapter 5 ~ Brian

Chapter 6 ~ Jennifer

Chapter 7 ~ Todd

Chapter 8 ~ Brian

Chapter 9 ~ Jennifer

Chapter 10 ~ Todd

Chapter 11 ~ Brian

Part Two

Chapter 12 ~ Jennifer

Chapter 13 ~ Todd

Chapter 14 ~ Jennifer

Chapter 15 ~ Todd

Chapter 16 ~ Jennifer

Chapter 17 ~ Jennfer

Coming Soon ~ Heart of the Matter, a Coming Home novella

About the Author

To Melissa and Abbie

One hundred fifty-one, one hundred fifty-two, one hundred fifty-three.

That’s the number of cars that have driven past me since I began counting them almost two hours ago.

One hundred fifty-four.

A white mid-size sedan passes by me headed east in the direction of the interstate. I turn my head suddenly hoping to get a better glimpse of the car, but I’m only able to see its red taillights. For a moment, I feel a slight bit of panic. I continue to watch the car until it gets so far away, that I’m no longer able to make anything of it. The taillights fade into the night. I’m fairly certain there have been numerous cars pass by me tonight that were white, since it is a popular color, but for some reason, this one in particular makes me think of Jennifer. And I have to wonder if it could possibly be her?

One hundred fifty-two. Fifty-three.

Shit.

I am so distracted by the white car, and I quickly realize I’ve lost count.

I quickly crank the car and squeal my tires as I pull out from the parking lot and turn into oncoming traffic, not caring that I’ve just pulled out in front of a mid-size passenger truck. Horns blare from the truck and almost immediately, the driver flashes his lights on high-beam. I stick my arm up and make a hand gesture aimed towards the driver, but I know the truck can’t possibly see it in the dark. I really don’t care if he can or not, but, at the moment, the only thing on my mind is catching up to the white car that’s up ahead.

Thinking back to just a few hours ago, I would give anything right now for a chance to offer Jennifer an apology for my behavior. For crying out loud, I’m her freaking husband, and I’ve gone and done it again. I lost my temper then threw a glass bottle across the kitchen. When the bottle made contact with the sink, shards went flying everywhere even nicking her on the cheek. She finally mustered the courage and demanded I leave right then. From her crouched position on the floor, she glanced over her shoulder while keeping her stomach covered and glared up at me. Her eyes were full of hatred towards me and she was dead serious when she spoke. I don’t recall ever seeing this side of her the whole time we’ve been together including the incident involving her best friend Rebecca.

I am a stupid asshole and I’m not even sure if I could convince her I’m sorry and worthy of forgiveness at this point. Not now. I’m afraid it may be too late.

I notice the light ahead change to yellow signaling it is about to turn red. I let out a deep breath hoping I’ll be able to get close enough to the white car that’s still several car lengths ahead to see if it’s Jennifer or not. When the light changes to green I’m able to accelerate enough to weave in and out of the other cars and realize soon enough that it’s a completely different make of car, not to mention, there’s even an out of state tag on it as well. Damn it!

I shake my head in frustration. First of all, why would I even think Jennifer would be out this time of the night anyway? The clock on the dash shows it’s almost midnight. Knowing her, she either crawled in bed where she cried herself to sleep or she called Rebecca to come over fearing I may return. And if that’s the case, I’m doomed. With everything Rebecca has recently learned about me, I might as well start looking for a new place to stay. There’s no way she’s going to let me talk my way back into Jennifer’s life again, married or not.

Since there is no longer any reason to drive in this direction, I make a u-turn at the next intersection and head back towards town. I drive pass several fast food places  in addition to several other retail establishments, including the hotel where Jennifer works, but there’s no reason to even pull through the parking lot tonight since she’s off. If I hadn’t lost my cool I could be cuddled on the sofa with her right now instead of driving around in the middle of the night, or better yet, we could be making love to each other. Damn it Brian! Now is not the time to be thinking about that.

With no particular place to go, I weigh my options—continue driving around wasting gas or return to our apartment. Maybe it’s been a reasonable amount of time and she’s settled down enough to where we could at least talk. I decide to take my chances.

A few turns later, I turn into the entrance of the apartment complex and follow the road all the way to the back where our apartment is. As I turn the corner, I find myself crossing my fingers that the extra parking spot isn’t occupied with Rebecca’s car. To my surprise though, both spots are empty. I immediately start to panic, fearing something serious may have happened to Jennifer. What if the cut on her cheek was more than just a nick and she couldn’t stop the bleeding? If she’s at the hospital won’t the staff question her about how it happened? What kind of story would she tell the doctors and nurses? Would she make up something to protect me or are the cops at the hospital making a report of all the details from our confrontation? 

I pull into my spot, place the car in park and glance around before shutting off the engine. Slowly, I climb out of the car. For a Saturday night everything is eerily quiet. Yes, it’s late in the night, but there’s no activity going on anywhere.

I walk down the hallway and stop just outside the front door. I lean forward and place my ear against the door but there is nothing but silence coming from within the apartment. I walk to the corner of the building and see the light from the living room glowing around the blinds of the patio door. Walking back around to the door it’s as though I’m scared to touch the doorknob, fearful of what I might find on the other side. I insert my key into the lock but realize as I turn the key that the door isn’t even locked. Suddenly, I have a flashback of all the blood that covered Jennifer’s hands. It was just a small cut, but dang it, I hope she’s okay. God, I hope she didn’t need medical attention.