This fearless girl, p.1
This Fearless Girl, page 1
part #2 of St. Clary's University Series
Contents
Also By E. M. Moore
Wilder Treasure Map
Chapter 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
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Pre-Order These Reckless Hearts
Facebook Group & Newsletter
Heights Crew
The Ballers of Rockport High
The Rockstars of Hollywood Hill Series
Safe Haven Academy Series
About the Author
This Fearless Girl
Saint Clary’s University
Book Two
By
E. M. Moore
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by E. M. Moore. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact E. M. Moore at emmoorewrites@hotmail.com.
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition December 2020
PA’s: Affinity Author Services (Bibiane Lybaek & Ashton Reid)
Cover by 2nd Life Designs
Edited by Chinah Mercer of The Editor & the Quill, LLC
Also By E. M. Moore
Saint Clary’s University
Those Heartless Boys
This Fearless Girl
These Reckless Hearts
The Heights Crew Series
Uppercut Princess
Arm Candy Warrior
Beautiful Soldier
Knockout Queen
Crowned Crew (Heights POVs & Stories)
The Ballers of Rockport High Series
Game On
Foul Line
At the Buzzer
Rockstars of Hollywood Hill
Rock On
Spring Hill Blue Series
Free Fall
Catch Me
Ravana Clan Vampires Series
Chosen By Darkness
Into the Darkness
Falling For Darkness
Surrender To Darkness
Ravana Clan Legacy Series
A New Genesis
Tracking Fate
Cursed Gift
Veiled History
Fractured Vision
Chosen Destiny
Order of the Akasha Series
Stripped (Prequel)
Summoned By Magic
Tempted By Magic
Ravished By Magic
Indulged By Magic
Enraged By Magic
Her Alien Scouts Series
Kain Encounters
Kain Seduction
Rise of the Morphings Series
Of Blood and Twisted Roots
Safe Haven Academy Series
A Sky So Dark
A Dawn So Quiet
Chronicles of Cas Series
Reawakened
Hidden
Power
Severed
Rogue
The Adams’ Witch Series
Bound In Blood
Cursed In Love
Witchy Librarian Cozy Mystery Series
Wicked Witchcraft
One Wicked Sister
Wicked Cool
Wicked Wiccans
1
The sound of speeding cars driving down the interstate numbs me. I dig my heels into the dry dirt, staring at the different makes and models as they fly by. All of these travelers, whether driving near or far, are living their own lives on their own time.
I wonder if any of them shot someone a few days ago? With the thousands and thousands of cars passing by, I can’t be the only one. Right? I can’t be the only one who did what was needed to survive the moment; to save the people I’m supposed to hate.
A half mile behind me, the charred remains of my family’s house are entombed in black soot. Debris from the explosion litters the desert floor like unwanted trash. Jagged, broken pieces of decayed wood siding are scattered over the barren terrain along with scraps of singed curtains and shards of glass. I shake my head, the memories of my decimated childhood home hitting me hard and fast. Even with all the evidence left behind, Chief wouldn’t-know-his-ass-from-a-hole-in-the-ground Lionel ruled it a gas explosion.
He’s definitely on the take. If he wasn’t before, he certainly is now. I get it, Cole is one scary ass motherfucker. But a gas explosion? Please. They obliterated the fucking place. My home. They blew it up, then attempted to blow my life apart, too.
I stare at my shaking hands, expecting to see them in a different light after I pulled the trigger at a human instead of a target. I expect to see blood, maybe a black coating from the powder discharge. But there’s nothing. Everything that happened in that moment has only been held internally, scarring my thoughts.
Bringing my knees to my chest, I tuck my hands in my knee-pit to keep the tremors at bay. I glance up, my eyes following a car that has luggage strapped to its roof. I highly doubt they’re in the I just shot someone a few days ago category. They’re more than likely off to a national park for some good ol’ adventure-like fun. I almost laugh. Can I really judge people so easily, though? I don’t look like a gun-toting fiend, yet here I am with shaky hands and mental scars.
I don’t care if it was Lance Jacobs I shot, the feeling doesn’t go away. Though, if I’m honest, picturing his face makes swallowing the jagged pill a hell of a lot easier.
I immediately push that thought aside. That slope is a slippery one, and I don’t need to dwell on what kind of person it makes me to think that way.
Muted footfalls sound and I freeze for a moment before spinning to see who it is, my heart lodging in my throat. I recognize the languid movement of the figure walking toward me and close my eyes, exhaling in relief.
“I figured you’d be here.”
“Since when do you know that I come here?” I ask, voice gravelly with the strain of disuse.
Lucas shrugs as he sits next to me. “I pay attention to things.”
I know he does, and that’s a problem. In this short time, he’s seen more of me than anyone else ever has. Not even my dad knew me as well as Lucas Govern does. Which begs the question of how transparent I was before him. It was as if I was a ghost living within the city limits of Clary, people unable—or unwilling—to see me.
“I came to ask if you were ready for today, but since you’re here, I’m guessing no.”
“Who would be ready?” My black shoes are already scuffed in dirt. Hardly avoidable when we live in the arid Arizona climate, but I’m not helping myself either. The rest of my depressing black outfit is caked in brown sand, too. I dust my shoulder off while Lucas watches.
“Tell me what I can do.” His voice is flat, yet urgent. His soft caramel brown eyes are so much more beautiful than the temperate color I’m surrounded by every day which is why I don’t look at them right now. I don’t know what kind of lies they’ll tell me.
I deserve this. I deserve to feel the pain that can’t easily be lifted. Not by pretty words from a pretty boy; not with a reassuring hand or pleading eyes.
When I don’t answer, Lucas sighs. “You can’t stay away forever, you know.”
That’s where he’s wrong. I’ve been invisible for twenty years. The way I see it, I could comfortably get away with another twenty years and then some. Take the easy way out. Take the way out that someone who treasured their life would take. Who admired normal and boring and—
I pinch my thigh. Despite my reassurances that I could, I’m not going to stay invisible.
“Wyatt’s been asking about you...”
Low blow. Asshole. But then again, no one ever accused Stone, Wyatt, and Lucas of being anything else. Even when I was slipping into their day-to-day routine, they showed me who they were every single day.
“He says he wants his magic hands.”
“I’m sure someone from Saint Clary’s will be on their knees for him as soon as he snaps his fingers.”
There’s a beat of silence before Lucas says, “You’re really dense, you know that?”
I swing my gaze to his. “You’re going to berate a grieving girl?”
“When that grieving girl is being a dumbass, yes.”
“Why are you here again?” I snap.
He snickers. “Keep trying to push me away, Dakota. Let’s see how far it gets you. You already know I love the chase.”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
He sighs, piercing me wit
I bite the inside of my lip, my fingernails digging into my thighs. Being with them felt so right up until that moment when shit got too real. Now I’m thrust right into the middle of something I can’t be a part of.
Lucas reaches over to grab my chin. His hold is loose yet domineering as he moves me to look at him again. “I’m not going to talk about the other stuff. I fucking get it, okay?” He shakes his head. “Today is just one of those things that has to be done. Yeah?”
He’s so damn handsome. My fluttering eyelids shutter my view. There are so many other things I should be thinking right now, and I suddenly remember why I’ve been avoiding him. He gives me a knowing smile as if he can already see the cogs turning in my head. Damn my lonely upbringing. If only I had any other friend. Or...
Or Dickie.
My heart fissures in my chest. For a moment, I can’t breathe.
Lucas stands and helps me to my feet, pulling me out of my downward spiral. “We have to go now, Wild Girl.”
I brush the dirt from my ass. My new black skirt swings against my knees. Paired with a modest shirt and shoes to match, it’s the perfect outfit to wear today. It also miraculously showed up inside my dorm room this morning while I was in the shower. Apparently when they fixed the lock on my door, they neglected to mention they made extra keys for themselves.
Bastards.
I don’t see them watching, but I know they’re there. They won’t let me out of their sight, even when I’m running away.
I shot Lance Jacobs.
I’m going to a funeral.
My dad is still missing.
Dickie... My heart pings again as Lucas holds my hand, steering me toward the road. We walk past the remains of my house, and he doesn’t even bother gazing at the tattered ruins of my life burnt to hell. Maybe that’s how he does it. How he gets through everything. You just walk away and don’t look back.
When I see the car sitting in the driveway, I stop. It’s Stone’s silver Audi. The sun ricochets off of the iridescent paint—the heat waves distorting the air around the vehicle as if it has its own aura.
“I borrowed it,” Lucas says, and a part of me sighs in relief that I don’t have to see Stone just yet.
I didn’t talk to him after I shot his father. The retreating ATV’s whipped up a dust storm, temporarily muting the whole scene. Cole and his two lackeys were just out of sight when the police sirens echoed over the horizon. Lucas had run to intercept them so they could call an ambulance for Wyatt and Lance. Stone and I just stood there, staring at what I’d done until Wyatt’s soft groans called to me. Even then, I didn’t move. I went through the motions at the police station and the hospital. Lionel never even asked me a single damn question, but it’s okay, I guess, because Lance’s gunshot was ruled accidental even though none of us had guns.
Not that I should be complaining about that part of Lionel’s shitty investigation. If the truth comes out that I shot Lance Jacobs, my short life will be over before it ever really began.
“You should talk to him,” Lucas says as he opens the car door for me. I slip in, which saves me the trouble of answering him as he goes around the other side. After he starts the car, he doesn’t let it go. “You’ll have to talk eventually.”
And what does someone say to the son of the guy you shot? Sorry?
I’m not even sure I am though. I can hate that I had to do it without feeling one ounce of regret. The only reason Cole is in any of our lives is because of Lance. He deserved what he got and more.
“Well, Stone wants to talk to you.”
I cross my arms as Lucas backs out of the driveway. “I doubt that.” On second thought, he might. I’m sure he’s aching to tell me how horrible I am. As dumb as it fucking sounds, my chest squeezes with regret for how I might have hurt the guy I was starting to care for. On the other hand, the guy who led his father right to my family’s most precious secret can go fuck himself.
I re-hid the safe. I couldn’t stand to think there were people who knew its proximity. All they would have to do is go out with a metal detector to the tree I led them to, and they’d find it right away. Not anymore, though. I saved my family’s legacy. Now I’m the only person who knows where it is.
Lucas drives the rest of the way to the cemetery in silence. I hold my breath, wondering how I’m going to face this when I know the reason we’re here is my fault. This is why I was sitting overlooking the highway, pretending to be anywhere else. I didn’t want to face the guilt of what I’d done.
“It’s not your fault,” Lucas says, his eyes trained on me like heat-seeking missiles. He knows I’m going to break down at some point. I’m sure. He knows me better than I know myself.
A bitter laugh escapes me. “Not even you can make me think that’s true.”
I wish I could believe it, but I know the words are just pretty lies. Pretty lies are better than ugly ones, but they’re still just lies.
He grips the steering wheel, fingers tightening around the leather. “You were—”
“I don’t need a reminder of what happened,” I snap.
Lucas pulls into the cemetery, bringing the car to a stop on the side of the road. I get out, slamming the car door behind me. There are already a few people conjuring near the grave site. I take in a deep breath and march toward it. I may as well face this head on, and I don’t need Lucas or Wyatt or Stone with me either. I got too soft with them around, but not anymore.
Determination sings through me until the casket moves into view. Then, my knees quake and all my courage vanishes as fast as it had charged in. If a breeze started, I’d be flat on my ass were it not for a reassuring hand that slips around my hips to steady me. Lucas holds me for a moment before escorting me into the tiny circle of people who’ve come to say goodbye.
A single white rose sits on the dark wood casket. It’s pretty in a macabre way, even though what’s in that mahogany box is a lie.
I steal the strength I need from Lucas, turning to my left as the preacher starts to talk. I meet the eyes of Dickie’s children. The eldest nods at me, and I’m so consumed with guilt that I could drown in it.
The official story is that a car fell on Dickie in the garage where he worked, and he bled out. The real story is that I got him killed. My convoluted connection to some very dangerous people killed the only other person I had in this world.
They beat him to death.
The Dragons tortured him for what he knew about the treasure, but he never knew anything because the Wilders keep their secrets, just as much from their enemies as from their friends.
