Play of Light

By Debra Doxer

I lived in paradise, and I loved Spencer Pierce.

At fourteen, my life was perfect. The beach was my playground, and the boy who stole my heart lived just around the corner. But perfect never lasts. In one horrifying moment, I lost it all. My family was destroyed, and the boy I believed in turned his back on me. Paradise became a nightmare.

That was five years ago. Everything changed when we moved from our home by the sea. I’ve changed, and I don’t like who I’ve become. I miss the smiling, carefree beach girl who disappeared that terrible night. I want to find her again. I want to face the people we ran from so long ago. Most of all, I have to face Spencer. So I can prove that when he broke my heart, he didn’t break me.

But when I see him again, Spencer Pierce is no longer the boy from my memories. He’s now a man who could devastate me if I let him. He watches me when he thinks I’m not looking. There’s regret written on his face when he’s near. Each time I see him, my heart aches for what might have been, and I think his does too. How can I convince myself I’m over him when I suspect he never got over me?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Debra Doxer
• Release date: Dec 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310569104

Debra Doxer

Debra Doxer was born in Boston, and other than a few lost years in the California sunshine, she has always resided in the Boston area. She writes fiction, technical software documents, illegible scribbles on sticky notes, and texts that get mangled by AutoCorrect. She writes for a living, and she writes for fun. When not writing, she's walking her Havanese puppy and forcing her daughter to listen to New Wave 80s music. Connect with Debra: www.facebook.com/AuthorDebraDoxer www.instagram.com/debradoxer www.twitter.com/debradoxer [e-mail]

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formatted by E.M.Tippetts Book Designs

Smashwords Edition

Play of Light

Copyright 2014 by Debra Doxer

All Rights Reserved

Cover Design by Sarah Hansen

Edited by Pam Berehulke

Without limiting the rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into 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 above author of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Other Books by Debra Doxer

Quote

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

Author’s Note

Connect with the Author

About the Book Designer

Copyright Notice

Remedy Series

Keep You from Harm

To Have and to Harm

Sometime Soon

Wintertide

For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)

it’s always ourselves we find in the sea

— E. E. Cummings

Before . . .

I fell in love with Spencer Pierce the day he saved me from the pirates.

The pirates were Seth and Mike, twins from down the street who I occasionally babysat for. They were seven and I was twelve, almost thirteen, but I was small with sharp elbows and bony knees. My long red hair was wild and frizzed around my face in the constant humidity that thickened the air of our tiny shore town.

I should have been suspicious right off. In the past, they’d never wanted me to join in their games. Boredom was my downfall. I’d been on my own for weeks. My best friend, Isabella, moved away over the summer, and my sister was fourteen now, more interested in makeup, shopping, and boys than in playing badminton with me in the backyard or walking down to the corner store for slushies.

Once I agreed to the twins’ game, on the condition they stopped making fun of me and calling me carrot top, they declared that I was the maiden in distress as we all traipsed down to the beach together. They wore eye patches and brandished swords made of cardboard and tinfoil. I let them use a rope they’d found by the docks to tie me to the wooden slats of the fence that lined the back border of the dunes. The rough rope scraped my skin, but I never complained. I wanted to be a good sport.

Then they ordered me to call for help so they could swoop in to rescue me. That was exactly what I did once they ran away. I halfheartedly yelled for them in between giggling with embarrassment, watching while they laughed and turned to look at me over their shoulders as they diminished in the distance. When they disappeared around the corner, I kept calling out, wondering when they would turn around and come back. But their voices eventually faded until the rhythm of the waves was all I could hear.

I waited still, no longer calling for them but staying put, not wanting to ruin the game with my impatience. Then I waited some more. They never did come back, and I felt a familiar sinking feeling. You’re too trusting, Sarah, my mother would say, and she was right.

Knowing I’d been tricked and afraid of how much trouble those boys could get into on their own, I started yanking on the ropes. My elbows came out with some effort, but then my wrists caught on a thick knot. No matter how I struggled and twisted, I couldn’t manage to free myself. Those little terrors had actually done a decent job of tying me to the post.

Panic set in. Would they come back? Did they realize I wouldn’t be able to get out of these ropes myself? It wasn’t long before my eyes began to burn with unshed tears as I pulled against the ties. Stupid! I railed against myself, picturing the tight-lipped anger of my father when he discovered what happened, and the disappointment of my mother. I could hear my sister cackling at me. The only ones who might understand were the twins’ parents. They knew what trouble their boys could get into.

After a time, I slumped low on my tired legs, watching the seagulls fly over the foamy waves. If I were to paint a picture of this place today, the light would be muted. The waves would be sharp strokes of deep green, either teal or olive, their edges dipped in white. The sand would be flat and smooth, a mixture of tan and sepia, dotted by rocks half-hidden in the grains. The mood would be solitary, but harsh. Quiet, but loud. That was how the beach felt to me this morning, and despite my predicament, my fingers itched to capture it.

All too soon, gray clouds sealed off the sky, and when the first fat drop of cold rain hit my face, I started to cry pathetically. They’d actually left me here alone. They’d probably forgotten about me. My father was working. My mother didn’t know where I was half the time. No one would notice I was gone until dinner tonight. I squeezed my eyes shut, promising to pummel Seth and Mike if I ever got off this beach.

A light tap on my shoulder startled me, making me flinch as I glanced up through the strings of wet hair that hung in my face. There was a boy standing over me. Swallowing hard, I blinked to make sure he was real. He crouched low. When I stared up into the dark brown eyes that peered at me from beneath the brim of a Red Sox cap, I stopped breathing.

You’re Sarah, Emma’s sister, he said as he studied the ropes. How the heck did you end up tied to this fence?

I stood up. He knew my name and my sister? Emma was boy crazy, but I never thought she’d actually catch one, and certainly not one as beautiful as this boy. He was tall, a lot taller than me, and I supposed he could be Emma’s age, but his face looked older. His skin still held a tan from the summer, and his dark eyelashes were long and thick, making his eyes seem gentle. I got lost in those eyes, the color of milk chocolate surrounded by a rim of gold. He looked down at me with so much sympathy, my whole body was warmed by it.

Don’t worry, Sarah. He shot me a smile, and my heart skipped wildly. I’ll get you free. Then you can tell me who did this, and I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.

Who was this boy? I just blinked silently at him, like a moron, a shivering moron who fell for the stupidest and meanest prank ever. He took out a pocketknife and extracted the blade from it.

These ropes are pretty thick. It could take me awhile to cut through them. Can you hang on a bit longer?

Those brown eyes watched me and waited for my answer. I nodded, and he grinned reassuringly before getting down to work.

When he was behind me, tugging on the rope, my face flushed red with embarrassment. What must he think of me? That I was an idiot, what else? At first, I was thrilled to have been found, but now I almost wished I hadn’t been, at least not by him. He would always know how naive and gullible I was.

I was trying not to look at him while he worked so he wouldn’t catch me staring. Because I was so diligently not paying attention, I was surprised when the rope released and the sudden lack of tension sent me to my knees in the cold sand.

Are you okay? He took my arm and helped me up. I was shivering too hard to answer, and he was too now, dressed only in a short-sleeved T-shirt and faded jeans. We were both soaked through, and his eyelashes clumped together as he looked at me.

Let’s get you home, he said quietly, releasing my arm. Then he started walking in the direction of my house, looking back at me, waiting for me to follow.

My legs felt stiff from standing so long. I moved slowly as I came up beside him, hugging my arms around myself, stealing looks at him every now and then.

What happened? he finally asked when we were two houses down from my front door.

My lips pressed together. I didn’t want to say.

Was it the twins?

Shocked, I stopped moving. How could he know that?

He nodded at my silence, reading the truth in it. They’re trouble, he said. I saw them trying to push a cat through the book return slot at the library.

My eyes widened, then I laughed out loud. Seriously? It was the first word I’d spoken to him.

Yup. Had the whole body through before I got to them.

You saved the cat?

He grinned. When you have mad superhero skills like mine, you have to share them with the world. Then he winked and started walking again.

That was when I fell for him. I could almost feel the impact. It was probably hero worship in the beginning, but over time, as I got to know him, it slowly changed to love, real love, the kind that coated your heart at first, but then soaked in deeper with every look, every word, and every accidental brush of skin until your heart was completely saturated with it.

When we finally got to my house that day, he put his arm out to stop me. His dark gaze met mine and he said, Before you go in, I need a favor.

I nodded because I would do just about anything he asked.

Don’t sit on your roof at night anymore.

I sucked in a breath, blinking at him in surprise.

If you fell off and everyone was sleeping, you could get hurt and no one would know. I can’t keep staying up to check on you. Superheroes need their beauty sleep. Then he smirked at me, but his eyes told me he was serious.

My mouth fell open. The roof was my secret. I loved to sit out there and sketch with nothing but the moonlight to guide my hand. I stared up at him, alarmed now, wondering if he was some weirdo stalker.

His eyes narrowed at my reaction. I live behind you, he explained. On Woodcart Road. He gestured in that direction with his chin. My window is in the back. I can see the back of your house from it.

I pictured Woodcart Road. It wasn’t very long, and I thought I knew all the kids on that street, even the older ones. But before I could ask him anything more, the front door opened and my mother inhaled sharply. Where on earth have you been, Sarah? The twins left with their mother hours ago, and you were nowhere to be found.

My jaw clenched at the thought of them. Well, now I didn’t have to tell their parents that I’d lost them. My father appeared in the doorway too, taking me in and looking at the boy beside me.

Hey, Sarah Smile, Dad said. You had us worried.

I wondered if the boy would tell them what had happened, and I silently pleaded for him not to. But he didn’t seem inclined to say much as he stood there smiling politely at my parents. I wanted to ask his name, to say something more so he wouldn’t think I was some strange, mostly mute girl, but I couldn’t because at that moment my mother took me by the arm and pulled me inside the house.

We’ve been looking everywhere for you, she scolded. Apparently, I had been missed.

My eyes met the calm gaze of my father, who glanced from me to the boy again. Then he nodded at me before he walked outside to talk to him.

How are you, son? Dad asked. He put a hand on the boy’s shoulder as if he knew him. But that was all I saw because my mother was already ushering me into the bathroom and running the water for a warm bath.

It wasn’t until dinner that night that I finally learned who the boy was. My father said his name, and in my mind I kept repeating it over and over again. Spencer. I liked it. It suited him.

I don’t want the girls having anything to do with him. My mother spoke around a mouthful of spaghetti.

Both Emma and I were riveted to the conversation, awaiting the result. When Emma found out Spencer had brought me home, her eyes went wide, and she wanted to hear every detail. Since the main detail involved huge amounts of humiliation for me, she’d laughed her butt off. We both knew I was no competition for her when it came to boys, and she seemed to revel in my embarrassment.

Have some compassion, Maggie. He lost both his parents, Dad said. He’s a good kid. It’s not his fault Jackson is his uncle. As long as the girls don’t go over to that house, I don’t see any reason to keep them away from him.

When my mother was overruled, I got a pursed-lip glance of disapproval from her. But I hardly noticed because I’d just learned that Spencer lost his parents. Now he was living around the block from us with his uncle. That was why I’d never seen him before. My heart hurt for him.

Spencer’s uncle was probably my father’s least favorite person in South Seaport. My father was a good man, a good policeman too, and as honest as the day was long. That was what people said about him. He was a towering example of good character, and I completely idolized him.

Jackson Pierce, on the other hand, was an untouchable villain. The Pierce family had lived in South Seaport for generations, and they had connections. Jackson was a well-known figure around town, tall and burly, with a round, full face and a head of thick white hair. He’d smile when he passed you on the street, but his narrowed eyes told you the smile wasn’t real.

Jackson owned two popular bars, one on Main Street and the other down by the docks. He was doing something illegal in those bars. I didn’t know what, but my father did, and he was ordered to turn a blind eye. That was what he told my mother as he whispered angrily in the kitchen after Emma and I had gone to bed one night. Our house was small, and I could easily hear the quiet conversations that weren’t meant for my ears. Usually, when my parents argued, I silently sided with my father. I wasn’t exactly a daddy’s girl, but I’d always identified more strongly with him.

While Emma had the soft feminine looks of my mother with her creamy skin, dark eyes, and wavy brown hair, I was the image of my dad. He and I were made of sharp angles and unexpected contrasts. Our hair was bright red, our eyes were green like the sea, and our jaws were perfectly square. We were tall and skinny, quiet but with a fiery temper that could flare unexpectedly. I was proud to be so much like him, even though the looks that made my father handsome didn’t quite translate the same way to me. I wasn’t pretty, but there was no mistaking whose daughter I was.

My looks had never bothered me before. So I’d never bothered with them. But from that day forward, the feminine wiles lying dormant inside me began to bubble to the surface. Spencer had awoken them. My thoughts were filled of him and when I left the house, my eyes searched for him. Something changed the day we met. The shift was small but pivotal.

Somehow I knew things would never be the same.

After . . .

The rain wouldn’t let up. Alison, our boss, told Tessa and me to leave when it became clear that no amount of wishing would part the low, leaden sky. Lifeguarding at the town lake was probably one of the best summer jobs you could get here in Langdon. Tessa worked five days a week, and I joined her three of those days when I wasn’t interning at the modern art gallery in town.

We’d better still get paid, Tessa griped before taking an enormous bite out of her slice of pepperoni pizza. It’s not our fault the day’s a total washout.

We work by the hour, I reminded her, my eyes watching the door as it constantly swung open, causing the bell above it to give off a tinny clang. I wouldn’t count on it.

Her hand banged down on the table dramatically. That sucks and it’s totally unfair. This is an act of God, not a willful act of slacking. I want to work, unlike half the losers we know, and look at how I get treated. I should play hooky tomorrow when the sun is shining and see how Alison likes it.

I tried not to laugh. Yeah, that’ll show her. She’ll feel just awful when she finds the list of people who would kill for your job and starts calling them to replace you.

Her lips dipped down. Very funny, Sarah. Then she noticed my wandering gaze. How long ago did you text him?

I turned back to my untouched pizza. Almost an hour.

He’ll be here.

He’s mad at me.

He would lay down in traffic for you. He’ll get over it.

I met her steady gaze. I’m going to lose him.

Shaking her head, making her long black bangs shimmy above her eyes, she said, You won’t. Not unless you want to.

Instead of being offended by her comment, I shrugged. I want him to be happy. I just don’t think I can make him happy.

So you want him to break up with you? Is that what this is about?

No. I told you what this is about. It has nothing to do with Nate. Sighing, I slumped down farther into the red leather booth.

"Then why won’t you let him go with you? Why won’t you let me go with you?"

Because, I answered, sliding my gaze to the door again. I’d explained the best I could. There was no point in saying it all again.

When I looked back, Tessa’s lips formed a tight line. There’s something you’re not telling me. You’re bailing early on the summer, and your excuse of needing closure is lame. Also, it’s a lie. Be pissed at me if you want, but I think you’re lying, Sarah. Even though Nate’s forgiveness is a sure thing, you have to put some effort into making this okay with me. I’m your best friend. I’m higher on the food chain.

I wanted to smile at her food chain comment, but her expression stopped me. Her eyes were narrowed and hurt. Most people misunderstood Tessa. She was brash and confrontational, completely without a filter, but underneath it all she had a good heart. Right now it was barely hidden under the tiny red bikini top she wore with confidence. She had curves and she used them to full effect.

I had on a bikini too, but I’d pulled a tank top and shorts over it to go to lunch. Curves had finally made a gradual appearance on me, but I didn’t have Tessa’s confidence. No one did. In fact, I was surprised the manager hadn’t kicked us out yet with their No shirt, No shoes, No service policy.

The last thing I wanted was for Tessa to be angry with me. I felt bad keeping so much from her. The fact was, she and Nate knew more of my story than most people, but they only knew so much. What happened five years ago had been a secret for so long, I hardly knew how to talk about it now that the threat was over and I could probably tell them everything. That was why Tessa didn’t understand. She simply didn’t know.

I’ve never lied to you, Tessa. It’s just . . . complicated. Overly interested in my soda, I used my index finger to make a line through the thick condensation coating the glass. I was purposely not looking at her, but I could sense her rolling her eyes at me.

Well, just so you know, she said, Derrick is planning to hide in your suitcase and go with you. Your leaving is completely destroying him.

I pictured Tessa’s little brother with his eager expression and tall, lanky frame. He’s twelve. He’ll get over it. He had a crush on me and Tessa constantly teased me about it. As much as I dismissed his feelings, I couldn’t help but think of the crush I’d had at the same age.

My phone vibrated on the table; it was a text from Nate. After reading it, I felt a mixture of relief and dread.

What’s up? Tessa asked.

Nate can’t make it for lunch. But he wants to come by the house tomorrow. To talk. I put air quotes around the last two words.

Tessa sat back and folded her arms. Maybe you should break up with him. Hearing from your boyfriend should not put that expression on your face. If you two already have issues, the long-distance thing is never going to work. Besides, you won’t be boyfriendless for long. I mean, look at you.

Tessa was right about one thing. Hearing from my boyfriend should give me a thrill, not put a knot in my stomach. As for not being boyfriendless, that wasn’t really my concern, and her reference to my looks didn’t resonate. Deep down I knew I wasn’t the awkward girl with the wild red hair anymore, but most of the time I still felt like her.

I’d grown into my looks, as my mother would say. Here in Michigan, I’d never been called carrot top or asked if I’d stuck my finger in a light socket. My hair darkened as I got older, and the keratin straightening I had done every few months tamed the curls. My hair flowed in long thick waves over my shoulders now.

But when I looked in the mirror, my jaw was still too square and my light green eyes were too big. The scar that cut across my cheek marred my otherwise smooth pale skin. Nate told me I was beautiful, and I believed he meant it, but I’d accepted the fact that I wasn’t beautiful long ago when the one boy I wanted didn’t want me back.

When the downpour diminished to a drizzle, Tessa and I decided we could start walking home without getting soaked. You know, she said as we stepped outside. The need to tell you every little thing about my day won’t go away just because you’re gone. Prepare to be texted.

A lump formed in my throat. I would miss this girl like crazy.

And you’d better respond, missy. She pointed a finger at me.

You know I will.

I’ll tell Derrick you said good-bye, even though you didn’t. You heartless wench. Breaking two hearts in one week.

I was queasy at the thought of seeing Nate tomorrow and what I planned to say to him. The other heart in question was more easily mended. We need to find Derrick a girlfriend.

She cringed. Who would date him? He chews with his mouth open and picks his nose in public.

Okay, I didn’t need to know that.

We still had two more days to hang out before I was leaving, but Tessa pulled me into a hug and said, I hope you have a good trip home, Sarah. You look like you need it.

Then she walked away, surprising me with how perceptive she was.

I woke up before my alarm clock sounded. It was still dark and far too early to get out of bed. So I closed my eyes and just lay there pretending I was in another room, my old bedroom in my old house, and my dad would be coming in to wake me soon. Back then, I never got up before my alarm. I slept through it and then I slept some more, until Dad coaxed me out from under the covers with his unusual tactics. He used music. Annoying music.

My dad loved music, but his tastes were stuck in the decade of bell-bottoms and unshaved armpits. He was hardly old enough to drive when most of that music came out, but he still knew every song written up until 1979. Then the eighties hit with hair bands and synthesizers, and he was done. For him, The Wall by Pink Floyd was the last great album ever produced. Since then, there’d been nothing but noise, he used to say.

Since I couldn’t stand music from the seventies, and the eighties was one of my favorite musical decades, I was appalled by his lack of taste. I mean, talk about a decade filled with diversity. There was Def Leppard, Bon Jovi, Duran Duran, and Depeche Mode,

Reviews for Play of Light

[jeracafite · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I received this free eARC from NetGalley in exchange for my honest review. This was a different take in the New Adult genre. Instead of the antsy, I'm in college, I'm pining over three guys, I'm not going to survive without the guy I love, this is actually about a girl who needs to confront her past in order to move on and live her life. Yes, there is a guy she loves in there, but that's not what she needs to face in order to move on. Sarah witnessed a very traumatic event and it's haunted her for 5 years. So coming back to her hometown and facing everything is very brave of her to do. I'm not sure if I would have the guts to do it if I were in her shoes. I loved her and Spencer together. They were so cute and you could feel the intensity between them, both when they were 13 and when they were 18. I really enjoyed this novel. I may have to look into Debra Doxer's other novels to see if they are just as well written!

[gengenbookblog · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I don’t know where to start with this review. It was very touching and it hit me on a deep level. While some of the readers may identify with Sarah, I related to Spencer a whole lot more. Let me give you a little bit of background on each of the characters and then I will say why I relate to Spencer.Sarah met Spencer when she was only 14-years-old. She had a crush on him as soon as she met him because he was a very good looking guy. Sarah was/is an artist and she would see things for what they really were and not only the exterior; as days passed and she would see Spencer from time to time and have a glimpse into his real self, she started falling for Spencer’s personality—there was more to Spencer than he led people to believe and only Sarah saw glimpse after glimpse until Spencer started opening up to her while he was drunk.Sarah knew that Spencer was being beat up by his uncle Jackson but wouldn’t dare say anything to anyone because Spencer begged her not to do so. She wanted to tell her dad, knowing he would help since he was a police officer, but Spencer wouldn’t have any of it. It wasn’t until one night that Sarah finally told her dad, which played a part in Sarah’s father’s death, sending Sarah, her mom and her sister to a new territory, never to look back to the town where Sarah had fallen in love and got her heart broken.Five years later, Sarah decides to come back to the town she left behind because she wants justice for her father’s murder and she uncovers dark secrets that her mother knew, but never told Sarah. She also sees the guy that broke her heart, only to find out that Spencer really loved her but he pushed her away because he was too fucked up to stay in her life and he wanted to protect her.“I knew it would be you,” he said. “I knew you were the one to stay away from.”I know you want to hear (or rather read) more about Sarah but I want to talk about Spencer. Spencer was the kind of guy that every girl liked and wanted, He was very kind and charismatic, but he also had secrets that were scarring him inside and out and this is where I related to him. He was so closed off, not wanting to get close to anyone, not wanting to open up, only to deal with everything on his own until Sarah came along.His outlet was music, just like mine was reading, but it wasn’t enough for Spencer and it wasn’t enough for me. After five years, his feelings for Sarah were still there, growing each day he would spend time with her. Their secret place? The sand dunes at the beach.“The ocean had always been the only witness to our relationship.”This story is definitely something great and amazing and beautiful. I had never read a book by Debra Doxer but after Play of Light, I will pay attention to her because she has a way with words that really hooks you until the end. I wanted more, I needed more every time a chapter would end. Even at the ending of the story, I still wanted more because this story is breathtakingly beautiful. The romance in the story develops at a pace that is in between of slow and fast. It doesn’t go too slow so the reader won’t get frustrated but not fast, which leaves the readers needing air to breathe.While I gave you a small summary of what the story is about, a LOT of stuff happens in the story that will throw you in a great, wild ride that you will enjoy entirely until it ends and you will want more.This story made me think of my past and how closed off I used to be, not letting anybody in and then not having a care if people talked about me and what I would do. Spencer found his reasons: music and Sarah. I found my reasons: books, becoming a Psychologist to help others like me, and my fiance. Ultimately, it was him that got me out of the depressive state I was in and got me to stop my self-destructive habit.For you that thinks you are not worth it, that you are better off alone, don’t close yourself off. Look for help, talk to someone that you know will help, try and boost yourself with great quotes and find your reason that helps you get out of the dark phase you are currently in.