Breaking Point

By Dana Ellington Myles

Jr. is an only child. His father’s push for perfection turns Jr.’s coping mechanism into a deadly obsession.

Eddie is used to getting his way with the ladies, by charm or by force. But, finding the one woman who seems resistant to his usual tactics forces him to extremes.

Mike, forever the strong, stoic type, became a police officer to be the ‘hero’, the “knight in shining armor.” When his sister’s brutal murder remains unsolved, it’s just a matter of time before he starts to unravel.

Caitlyn believed she had everything under control. This last attempt on her life is the game changer. Her carefully constructed façade crumbles at her feet, taking her along with it.

These four lives weave together in this single tale of what happens when one is taken to the very limits of their control, sometimes there’s just no picking up the pieces once the Breaking Point has been reached.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dana Ellington Myles
• Release date: Apr 26, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301851317

Dana Ellington Myles

Since the age of seven, I cannot remember when the written word was not a part of my life. I didn’t consider myself a writer though, despite having excelled in writing at school, or having kept a journal since I was fifteen. It wouldn’t be until my late twenties when I made the connection that I’d been writing for almost as long as I’d been reading, thus I felt it was okay to admit, I was a writer. From there it wasn’t long before I knew I was destined to wow the world with my short stories, novellas and novels At the time of this writing, I have four books in print. I didn’t go through a vanity press, or spend the days sending query after query to publishers and literary agents. Instead, I did everything except the printing and binding; from book cover design, to buying my own ISBN and building my own website. I found a book manufacturer close to home who took my manuscripts and turned them into printed and bound masterpieces

Book preview

Breaking Point

Dana Ellington Myles

Published by Nowata Press at Smashwords

Copyright ©2013 Dana Ellington Myles.

Other Nowata Press Titles Available on Smashwords:

Hello Diva

Let There Be Life

Satin Sheet Memoirs, Volume 1

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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Cover by KLear Photography and Design

DEDICATION

To the women who have reached their point and beyond; who thought they’d never be able to put the pieces back together; I dedicate this story of survival and recovery.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First and foremost, to my editor, business partner, and friend Lia Nelson – James, a wonderful writer in her own right; if it weren’t for her eye for detail and straight forward approach, I don’t believe this story would be a strong as I think it is.

Then there’s my Beta Readers, Brenna and Dina. Both provided much needed honest feedback during the drafting process. Their support and encouragement kept me going through the many rewrites necessary to polish the story.

Lastly, I want to acknowledge the men who, unknowingly, served as models for the male characters and who put me in the situations which this book has fictionalized. At the time, I couldn’t see the blessing but without your having been in my life, and the lives of the women on whom my female characters are based, I wouldn’t have this wonderful story to tell.

Table of Contents

Part One, Shattered

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Part Two, Picking Up the Pieces

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

About the Author

Chapter One

Dr. Richard Moreland

Patient: Caitlyn M. Birch

Evaluation, December 8, 2012

Patient suffered a breakdown of sorts two days ago. After medical examination, patient transferred to The Estate for further evaluation and treatment. Interview with patient's parents and close (?) friend, reveal three traumatic events in the past eight years. Initial diagnosis, fugue state brought about by extremely delayed post-traumatic stress. Physical symptoms - uncontrollable shaking of the hands, bouts of rapid breathing, increased heart rate, particularly at night. Additional symptoms - night terrors. Prescribed nightly sedative to aid in sleeping, lesser dose during hours of wakefulness to help with tremors. Patient unresponsive for the most part during the day.

#

Session: 3

Date: December 12, 2012

Note: Nurse Gavin informed me of patient's waking; stopped in first thing.

Good morning Caitlyn.

Good. Morning.

Note: Subject's speech still slurred. Decrease sedatives immediately.

Do you feel up to talking today?

What day is it? Where am I?

You're at The Estate Caitlyn. It's Friday. December twelfth.

Oh. Am I sick?

No, you're not sick.

You're my doctor. Dr. Moreland.

That's right.

Who has Tila and Hun?

I’m not sure who they are?

Where’s my mom?

She’ll be by this afternoon. She usually comes around two.

Good, she’ll know then. May I have some tea?

Sure, I'll have the nurse bring you some. Do you feel like talking today?

Maybe after my tea.

Okay, I'll tell you what, I'll come back this afternoon when your mom’s here.

Thank you.

#

Session: 6

Date: December 17, 2012

Note: Patient looks much better, definitely more alert.

Good morning Dr. Moreland.

Good morning. I'm happy to see you up and awake.

Yes, well, I feel a bit more, peppy. I guess.

Have you had any more nightmares?

No, I've managed to sleep through the night for the past three nights.

Without the sleeping pills?

Yep, without the pills.

That's great.

Well, letting my folks bring my dog helped.

I noticed you seemed a bit more relaxed.

Don’t suppose I could have my cat too, eh?

Maybe, but it would have to be in a carrier.

Great. I’ll let mom know.

#

Session: 12

Date: December 27, 2012

Note: Patient definitely stronger. Going to begin recovery therapy after the first of the year; have agreed to allow animals to be present for some sessions as they seem to have a calming effect.

#

Session: 1 – Recovery

Date: January 7, 2013

Alright Caitlyn, it's time we got down to business. I want to have you out of here and functioning on your own by spring.

Geez doc, that sounds a bit soon don't'cha think?

Not in this case. You're amazingly resilient and I believe we can get you back up to one hundred percent fairly quickly.

So what you're saying is the past eight years of my life didn't have any lasting effect.

Oh no, there is definitely some damage, but I believe we can work through it and get you past whatever it is; to where you can live on your own again without the need for all the heavy artillery. We're going to restore your sense of security.

I hope so.

So now, let's get started. I want you to go back to this time last year, 2012. What are your clearest memories?

Do you mind if I hold Hun while we talk? She gets so mad when I keep her in the carrier too long.

#

(January 2, 2012)

What? Oh, okay, okay. It's morning, I get it.

The insectile blaring of her alarm reminded Caitlyn of the time her dad knocked the hornets' nest from the front porch of the beach house. All one billion of those hornets buzzed at the same time creating one of the angriest noises Caitlyn had ever heard. Until she'd heard the alarm clock at the local home goods store, that is.

The sales clerk was showing it to a family who was obviously there stocking up in preparation to send their progeny off to college. The clerk's strongest selling point? The sound would be the perfect jolt to get that freshman out of bed for any class that started before eleven in the morning.

Caitlyn bought it. Not because she had trouble getting going in the mornings, quite the opposite. Caitlyn prided herself on her ability to rise and shine. Instead, she’d fallen for the unique way the time was projected from the clock so it appeared on the ceiling. The alarm just proved to be a bit of a bonus. When it went off, she was most definitely awake. The blast was so jarring that falling back to sleep was not an option.

Ugh. Alright you lazy bums, let's get rolling.

Caitlyn slid out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom. The animals, with which she shared the house, never seemed to be affected by the alarm. They wouldn’t move until she came back, fresh from a steamy shower, wrapped in a fluffy towel.

Only then would Attila, a larger than life Rottweiler and Hun, an equally larger than life Main Coon cat, rise from their respective places on the king sized bed. There’d be lots of yawning and stretching as Caitlyn tossed the towel into the hamper and then put on her robe.

Soon after, all three of them would head for the kitchen. That particular January day, it was sunny but chilly. Despite living far enough below the Mason Dixon line to be considered in the South, mornings that late in January were brisk. Frost would cover most of the windows until well into the afternoon.

Caitlyn didn’t dally as she unlocked and opened the patio door, letting Attila outside into the big back yard. Tila didn’t do much dallying either, finishing her business in record time so as not to be out in the cold longer than she had to be. The big dog came back to the patio door, giving the glass her signature head butt to indicate her readiness to come back inside. Caitlyn had barely had time to walk away from the door before she heard the soft thumping.

One day, I swear you're going to just pop your head right through that glass. She'd never understood how such a big dog learned to be so delicate. Another burst of cool air swirled in as Caitlyn opened the door. Tila brushed Caitlyn’s legs as she came in, leaving some of the cold from her fur to seep through the shag of Caitlyn’s robe.

Brrrrr, Tila. Geez. No need to share. I know its cold out.

Hun avoided going anywhere near the cold air blowing through the open door, opting instead to go straight to her food dish situated next to the refrigerator. She reveled in the warm air blowing from underneath the refrigerator. She settled into its flow, nosily crunching away at the last of her kibble. Soon after, loud snorting added to the noise in the kitchen as Tila scarfed down her own kibble, announcing that the morning routine was well on its way toward completion.

Caitlyn smiled at her brood as she chewed a touch more quietly, on her usual light breakfast of toast with butter and jelly. Soon after, all three were finished with their breakfasts. A quick clean up and it was back to the bedroom so Caitlyn could get dressed for work.

Once in the bedroom, Attila went back to her spot at the foot of the bed, while Hun made her way to her pillow at the head of the bed. Never too early for a nap, she settled in a furry heap and was dozing within seconds. Tila preferred to watch Caitlyn, cocking her head to listen as Caitlyn chatted about the day ahead.

Okay Tila, not a lot going on today. I’ve finished my two assignments for the week. I don’t have any research to do. Guess I could work on the book. Ack! The book. Why on Earth did I ever agree to that? Tila looked at Caitlyn with a happy doggie expression as if to say she had no idea.

Caitlyn turned to the closet, folding the doors back so she could browse for something to wear. The clothes in the closet were a boring mix of solid blacks, grays, dark blues and red. Everything was hung facing the same direction and grouped first by type of clothing, then according to color from dark to light, then finally by length. Her friend Tonya often remarked that Caitlyn's monochrome wardrobe and the obsessive - compulsive way it was organized were the sure signs of a sick genius.

Let's see...movie or music today? Guess I'll go with movie.

She plucked a black tee shirt from a hanger, the face of Frank Langella as Dracula printed on the front. She pulled an equally dark pair of black jeans from another hanger.

On the floor of the closet, sat an arrangement of sneakers, either all white or white with a splash of red, black or blue, all coordinated to match her clothes. There were a few pairs of dress shoes sitting neatly and practically unused in the far right corner.

Dressed and ready for the day, Caitlyn headed off to work. Which, fortunately was just up the hall from her bedroom. Her home office had once been the master bedroom, but she'd converted it to an office soon after moving in. It was the largest of the three bedrooms and included a private bath room and large windows which provided a lovely view of the backyard and surrounding trees.

Her house was one of three on a cul-de-sac that backed up to a large wooded area. The trees stood tall and were said to be well over a hundred years old. She enjoyed looking out at them when she was stuck in the middle of a piece of writing.

An old, monster of a roll top desk made of a thick wood, stained a dark shade of brown dominated her office space. She'd bought it at a yard sale for just a little over two hundred dollars and been pleasantly surprised when she had it restored, to find out it was an original Cutler & Sons oak roll top, hand-made and worth about six thousand dollars. It stood in all its glory facing the windows.

It served as her primary writing space; she did all her drafting in long hand, writing for hours atop its scratched surface. She hadn’t felt right cluttering it with modern conveniences such as a lap top or other electronics. Even the ink pens and pencils she used were vintage looking.

The walls of the room were lined with oak bookshelves and a low work station for the gadgetry that made telecommuting possible. Flanked by rows and rows of books, sat her touch screen computer, wireless keyboard and mouse, a laptop docking station for easy syncing of her laptop, a printer / copier / fax combo, and shelf stereo system.

The animals had their designated areas as well. When they ventured in to keep her company, Hun enjoyed curling up on whichever windowsill was awash in the most sunlight, and Tila folded her massive frame down onto a large cushion just to the right of the doorway.

There was a small automatic tea pot giving off just a hint of steam as Caitlyn walked in that morning. The smell of apples and cinnamon wafted from its small spout as the brewing process had already started. The aroma signaled the official start of Caitlyn's work day.

She sat down at the computer station first, powering up all of the various components. Next up, she grabbed a large mug from a collection of five on the corner of the work station and filled it with tea while the computer booted up. The screen came on, her Outlook calendar showed just a few items on the to-do list. After a couple of quick sips of tea, she reached for the phone, just to the left of the computer screen. A quick hit of a speed dial button connected her to the world.

Good morning Liz. Happy New Year.

Hey, good morning and Happy New Year to you too. Must have been some New Year’s celebration, you're all of five minutes late this morning.

Ha, ha. What's on the schedule for today?

Well, looks as if you get the day off. The last two articles left editing on time for a change, so we're good there. No rewrites, thank goodness. The next deadlines are the rewrites to the Dateless in Denver articles; those are due to Ken by the 25th. Please, please, please make sure he gets them on the 25th. He's being real persnickety about this one.

I got it, I got it. Caitlyn scrolled to the date on her calendar, then backed up a week and marked the deadline a week in advance. Being on time was her trade mark. Anything else?

Nope, we should be good. But hey, since I have you on the line, I've been meaning to ask how the book is coming along?

Caitlyn looked at her computer with a slightly panicked expression. The Zen-like peace her morning routine created slipped at the mention of the manuscript.

Uh, pretty good.

Great. Terry’s going to want those first three chapters soon. He’s anxious to capitalize on your current popularity.

Good grief. I’m not all that popular anymore. It’s been over a year. I’m old news already.

Well, it won’t take much to remind the public that you were the one to end the South End Rapist’s reign of terror. And at that, the remaining peace Caitlyn felt was completely wiped away. Her hands trembled just enough that she had to use two hands to steady her mug so none of the hot tea could splash down onto the keyboard.

Please tell me they won’t be using that to promote the book.

You never know.

Caitlyn set her mug down and put a hand over her eyes, forcing any memory of that night out of her mind. Promise me you’ll do what you can to convince them that it’s not a good idea.

I’m sorry Caitlyn. I didn’t think it might still be bothering you.

No, no. I’m over it. It’s just that, we might not want this book to be associated with such sensationalism. That’s all.

Well, we’ve got plenty of time to work on an actual marketing plan. I’m sure it’ll be like you said, considered old news for sure.

Here’s hoping.

Yeah, well, sorry I brought it up. So, let’s just count on getting those first three chapters to Terry on time.

I'll work on it some more today. Should be able to send him something by the end of say, next week?

Great. I should never doubt you. Okay, well, I'm off to a meeting. Have a good day, get some writing done, and stay out of trouble.

Will do. Talk to you later. She sat with her eyes closed, her head cradled in her hand; her mouth turned down in a grimace as she worked to slow her racing heartbeat.

Ugh, why did she have to bring that up?

Tila eased over to Caitlyn, laying her head on Caitlyn’s knees. I just, I can’t right now, you know? Geez. Get a grip, already. It’s been a freakin’ year. I’m over it. I’m done. Ugh. Okay, I have to get out of here for a bit. Tila wagged her tail hard as she recognized the word ‘out’.

No, not this time. You can go with me next time.

Tila’s sigh of disappointment brought a hesitant smile to Caitlyn’s face, and helped bring her pulse closer to normal.

No, for real, I gotta go. I promise I’ll get right to work as soon as I get back. She gave Tila a couple of quick rubs behind her ears before pushing the dog’s massive noggin from her knees. Frantic actions showed how jittery her nerves were. She kept the tremors as far under control as possible while she packed her laptop and it’s accessories into her shoulder bag. Her movements were jerky, full of nervous energy. She wanted to get away from the memories fast. A day to relax might be just what her muse needed to get her past the block she’d run into on this, her first book.

Originally, the publishers wanted a full retelling, with the occasional dramatic liberties, of her encounter last year. She’d shot that idea full of holes. Liz had had no choice but to then convince the publisher it wasn’t a good time for such a gruesome book; the other victims of the South End Rapist still needed time to heal, she’d said. A book would be seen as tacky at best, insensitive capitalization at worst.

Liz was reluctant however to let the possible contract go to waste, so she worked some magic to get them to agree to a smaller project – a pulp novel full of the action and violence they were looking for, just with fictional characters and a plot that didn’t involve a serial rapist. They’d agreed, with the caveat that as soon as Caitlyn was ready (stress on her being ready SOON), she’d write about the night of the attack.

Caitlyn, seeing writing a novel as a way to prove she was over the trauma, had agreed and thus committed to producing a sixty to seventy thousand word manuscript.

She was just a few weeks into the writing when she’d realized that penning a novel was quite different from producing articles. She’d started with an outline, a path to follow but early in the first chapter, her characters had taken on a sort of life of their own giving Caitlyn a rare feeling of being out of control. She’d found it a struggle to put words to page ever since.

"Okay, I’ve got everything I think I need in case I get hit