Forever

By Carissa Marks

Together forever, friends from birth. Charlotte,(Charlie) had always loved Chase. Both searching for that something deeper. It took nearly losing her in a bombing to rattle Chase into thinking there could be more. When someone tries to kill her, he will move heaven and earth to keep her safe. Through twists and turns and near death events, his resolve grows firmer. He will marry her.  
Charlie packed away any hope of marrying the man she had loved forever after an accident left her unable to have a baby...no matter what, she always had his back. He was who she called in the middle of the night when she was scared or lonely. She was where he ran to when life was just too much. Chase pushes her to get a second opinion that leads them into a whole new adventure. 
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Carissa Marks
• Release date: Aug 23, 2017
• ISBN: 9781537857626

Carissa Marks

Started writing at 8, later in life I have written for newspapers, a military life style magazine, school news paper, and then hit the big time when a story was published in an anthology put out by the University of Edinburgh. I have a masters degree in creative writing multimedia(just got it)and I waited to go back to school until I was 50. Spent 20 plus yrs chasing the military, raising kids and then...you're never to old. I hope to be an inspiration to my girls, all of them.

Book preview

FOREVER

Carissa Marks

¶

PRONOUN

Thank you for reading. If you enjoy this book, please leave a review.

All rights reserved. Aside from brief quotations for media coverage and reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form without the author’s permission. Thank you for supporting authors and a diverse, creative culture by purchasing this book and complying with copyright laws.

Copyright © 2017 by Carissa Marks

Interior design by Pronoun

Distribution by Pronoun

ISBN: 9781537857626

TABLE OF CONTENTS

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

EPILOGUE

1

Late September, Whitehall:

Organ music softly played in the distance as Charlie ran through the garden carrying her shoes in one hand, holding her gown up with the other. Let me in! A chorus of cheers went up from the women she had known most of her life and a couple new ones. Her shoes went to the wayside as she hugged Rayna and then worked her way around the tent.

Sit down girl, let’s take care of that mane. Ali worked at getting Charlie’s thick black waves up in a twist. Rayna had always said no building could contain the love of two people destined to be together. So when she announced the wedding would be in the town square park, no one was really surprised. No one, who really knew her anyway. Charlie loved the whole idea, grass and flowers, fountains, picnic blankets and small tables for two mixed in with huge round tables so no one had to bounce back and forth to see who was speaking. Someone in the back of the tent called out, We thought you forgot.

No, didn’t forget, got tied up making flight arrangements, I’m off day after tomorrow. Donna stuck a shot glass in her hand. Melissa followed with a pitcher of witches brew, filling the glasses.

Over the teeth past the gums? A round of snickers followed, Fine. Ladies a toast. To the bride. Long lives, happiness and many little James-Monroe pitter pattering feet to keep you busy. They downed the pineapple, cranberry, seven-up, rum mix and followed it with a shot of tequila.

Rayna’s photographer was taking sister photos at the far end of the tent when Charlie’s phone buzzed, "Where are you? " She typed back that she was there.

It seemed like eons ago that she had landed at Chase’s. The weather was beautiful where she was going, but Miami was fogged in like it was pretending to be London. "Okay, well my news is more mundane. Cort is engaged. He waited, on purpose until she had a full bite of chocolate cream pie in her mouth. To Rayna James. Charlie sat up straight, fighting to not choke on the mouthful. That’s a story for a full bottle of bourbon, Red resigned and moved back to Whitehall with Donna. Melissa Bell, her husband died. Instant tears sat ready to spill, he had forgotten she had been close to Melissa and second cousin to Chip. I’m sorry Charlie, I forgot. I’m an idiot."

Her head shook. Him and Andrew are the only ones. Were the only ones with half a damn brain. Scenes from their childhood ran through her head. Gawd, poor ‘Liss, they had what? Three little ones? He nodded, affirming her memory.

Jesse moved home, his wife died. So, now the Hall has another eligible bachelor. Her jaw dropped. She overdosed. Chase played with his bottle label. He has days where he scares the hell outta us, days where he’s real good. Layla and Parker are cute as all get out. He’s all chubby legs and giggles and Layla is the queen bee around there. He’d deny it, but the look on his face said he liked being around the diaper set.

Crazy, I haven’t been home in, she rolled her eyes as she counted on fingers, Damn, three years, nearly four. Wow. Three weeks back and she remembered why she left to begin with. Her brothers had the right idea, even though she missed them beyond words. Last night she had downed way too much Cognac with Chase. She had also decided it was time to file for divorce from the dipstick musician with more ex-wives than morals or brains. More and more she knew what she wanted from life and a man and the fool she had married was not him.

Come on Charlie, we need you. She jumped up, finding her spot in the line. They had snapped a dozen shots before they heard Oh no, your shoes…you never put them on. Donna, Rayna, Melissa, and Charlie all burst into laughter. The men were on the move, hearing the mirth from the bride’s tent made them slow down and check each other for information. All agreed, that could be the sound of trouble.

Brooke stuck her head in the tent, Guys look sex-see, super sexy even. And your dad is ready Rayna. Ali scooted out arm in arm with Brooke to the seating area. More than one woman stared wistfully, lustily, at the line of Monroe men and the Sheriff.

Logan looked at the floor, Last chance to run bud.

Never. It made the others laugh. Donna entered, joining the family in the benches along the front row. Melissa came through the arch, with a deep breath, slowly exhaling as she moved to the front. Everyone still worried about her. Lynn followed, more used to jeans than gowns, she ate up the look on Billy’s face as she went to her spot. Charlie stopped in the speckled lighting of the arch. Chase’s heart skipped a beat. He wrestled with that feeling as she glided to her spot. Kenna arranged Rayna’s dress and stood back as the photographer snapped a shot of her looking back over her shoulder. A second one had Chex sitting on her train. Kenna took her spot, smiled at her husband, and stepped down the aisle.

Tyler looked at his middle daughter, so like her mother. Your mama would be so happy…his too. Thank you for this honor.

Shut up. You make me cry and ruin my makeup and I’ll kick you. He snickered as they heard the first chords of her song.

Yes sir, just like your mama.

Okay Chex, walk to Cort. He looked to his human, then slowly walked down the carpeting to the fountain steps, he waited there until he felt her dress brush his tail, then he walked up the steps, sat and waited. Charlie and Chase’s eyes were locked as Cort and Rayna traded vows. Both tried to deny it, but they both felt it.

They partied late into the night, in the town square, food, liquor, dancing, and anticipation as women waited on the bouquet. Charlie sidestepped out of the fray with Melissa at her side. Carrie reached over a tween to snag it, which caused some minor ribbing of Beau.

Sunday morning Chase and Charlie flew out on his plane. He walked her through Miami International to her gate. You can always hide here with me. Chase held her close.

I know, but I have things I have to take care of.

I’ll miss you. He kissed her forehead.

I’ll miss you too, I promise, I’ll stop in for a couple days on my way back. One last hug and she was heading down the walkway to TSA screening.

Take care Charlie. He waited until he saw her make it through. With a sigh, he turned, strolling back through the airport to his waiting car. Guess I need to not put this off any longer.

Late October, Miami

Standing across the street in fading, shadowy fingers of neon light, Chase Monroe stared at the building that until that morning had borne his name as well as that of his ex-partner. Blair-Monroe Towers. Once a shining example of craftsmanship now stood disfigured from the remaining corbels being ripped off. Too little too late. His head shook as he tried to imagine what it must have felt like to be walking along with your toddler and then…boom! Part of a building falls off and kills your child instantly. It wasn’t possible. A structure less than six months old should not have parts sailing to the ground. How the hell did it pass inspection? His contractor was able to pop the other five off with a screw driver. Thank you Natalie. Besides being a great lay, it’s nice to have friends with benefits that are well connected. Chase was so engrossed in his rambling thoughts; he didn’t hear the reporter until she was right next to him.

Mr. Monroe, I’m Jen Erickson from

I know who you are, screw off. Chase wasn’t exactly in the mood to play the gentleman.

So you have nothing to say? We heard that Mrs. Savoy is suicidal is that true? He gave her the once over. Short, her hair color came from a bottle, large busted although he’d lay money they were fake, her makeup, still done for the camera, gave her a slight clownish glow. He cleared his throat, adjusted his stance so he faced her, making the reporter have to crane her head back to see him as he then responded in tone that broached no more questions.

You want a statement? Here’s one. Place your kid on the sidewalk, I’ll have someone run up to the sixth floor and drop a corbel on their head so you can turn into a human sponge and soak up their blood and brains and then I’ll let you make a statement as to whether or not you feel suicidal.

Grimacing, she replied, I don’t have kids.

Fine, boyfriend, girlfriend, whatever.

I’m not seeing anyone, which is irreve…

Chase cut her off there, I can understand that. I couldn’t be paid to fuck you either. He spun and stalked off leaving the reporter yelling something not so polite after him. "Well that was a classy response Monroe." Hearing his own words didn’t help any. However rude and crude it was, he’d be damned if he’d apologize. Contractors and inspectors not on the take, were going through their buildings. Right then all he wanted was a stiff drink, and he had a bottle at home calling his name.

After the fifth glass, sitting naked in the dark on his balcony, Chase sent a text message. "God I wish you were here." The return was fast. trust me, much rather be there. He considered it for a hot second, "Come home. I miss you. Her response was quick, I can’t wait to be back. Prob not be there until Jan." Chase sent back a sad face emoji. As he wandered back inside he watched as video of an airport explosion played on the soundless set. He hit the button sending the room to darkness as he crawled into bed.

Late October: London, England

Morning slowly stretched her sunlit fingers toward the city, night’s shadows still played on the cobblestone walk. It was too perfect. With her luggage in a locker and the alarm set on her watch, Charlie grabbed her camera bag and ran for the doors. The light was exactly right. She shot fifty or so pictures of the skyline, the juxtaposition of the old and new. Light and dark. Village and modern airport. Her mind was in hyper-drive as she worked her way back to the terminal. Ducks in a pond caught her eye; she stopped to take a couple more shots. Something smelled delicious, she considered finding food, but after feeling so lousy in France—she decided to go search out some soup. Maybe a pastry, she mulled over the possibility as she entered the building.

People milled about under terminal signs. A man tossed a bag into a dented kelly green trash bin. A teenaged boy and his mum stood by the window; he took a selfie with her as he tried to calm her nerves. His chums joking and teasing added to it as she made her way out the doors, waving. Another boy about fifteen or sixteen walked in, she had seen him and a lady, probably his mother outside, laughing at something he had said. Directly in front of her, a man held hands with a pretty woman who kept staring at a ring on her other hand, at the top of the stairs a toddler held by dad kicked and squealed happily. Charlie took a few more shots before she fumbled her lens cap. As she crouched down to grab it, ripples rattled the floor under her. A horrendous echoing boom followed by a wail of what sounded like a smoke detector. Glass rained down all around her. Then, silence. A full minute of silence. Just her breathing as she took in the scene.

Blood splattered across the glass at the top of the walk. Bodies and assorted pieces thereof lay about as if tossed by a forty foot tall toddler. It began as a whimper and built into a full shriek followed by moans of pain. Cries of the wounded, cries of the people with them, cries from the soul, from the broken hearted. She crawled to the couple in front of her. Holding pressure on his wound as he called out for the woman, her fingers still entwined with his. Charlie couldn’t see the rest of his companion; the parts were no longer one entity. And then, chaos began in earnest.

Charlie side stepped away as people swarmed in to aid the injured. She grabbed her camera bag, looking over her shoulder at the destruction. Slowly she made her way up the carpeted stairs to the locker. Her hand shook as she unlocked the door, her hands shook more as she pulled her carry-on bag and backpack out. A young lad she had spotted earlier asked if she would ring his mother, his phone was in his pocket. Both hands held his face in place, blood poured from between his fingers. She marveled at how calm he was, she called, then she tucked the phone back in his pocket and waved down an emergency worker. Halfway to the gate an airline worker ran to her. Miss. Miss. She waved a hand in front of Charlie’s face before she pulled the ear buds all the way out. Miss, you’re injured, please sit over here. Her name tag read India People in military uniforms ran to her side, she remembered speaking with them earlier.

I’m on fire. They hustled her to a waiting ambulance with her belongings. Hours later she woke up in a local hospital with a nurse fussing over her. A week later she checked out and headed for Oslo via train through Cologne, Hamburg, Gothenburg and finally to her destination. Late one night her phone lit up, smiling over who it was, she tapped out a message. I’ve never been homesick before, but I would do anything to be back there now.

Mid January, Miami:

Miss Kaitlyn, help me, please. Old Miss Mimi next door sounded rough. Her voice was raspy, when Kaitlyn opened the door, her jaw dropped. Mimi’s lips were blue, her skin had a sallow tone and she was gasping for air. Kaitlyn called nine-one-one as she gathered up Mimi’s Yorkie. EMT’s arrived in less than five minutes, they soon had her packaged up to go back to the hospital; it looked like cancer was winning this round.

Yes ma’am. I will take your fur baby to Miss Liz, right now. You just get better. She moved through the single wide mobile home tossing the dog’s toys and bowls in her kennel along with her food. As she passed the older woman’s bedroom, her fentanyl patches sat on the dresser. Kaitlyn grabbed all five and tucked them in her back pocket along with a bottle of Oxycodone. She locked the doors behind her. Like she promised, she carried the dog and crate to the end of the road to Mimi’s friend and then took her time on the walk back. It was an older area, some aging Florida style houses sat on neat lots with newer mobile homes dotting the neighborhood thanks to a year full of hurricanes. It had been quiet, no road noise, no traffic sounds. It had been paradise for her and Sam. She choked back a sob just thinking about her son. His death had rocked her world and crushed her soul. In a thousand different ways she had attempted to make them understand.

Grief defied definition. You eat, breathe, sleep and grieve the whole time. You walk the dog, pay the bills, put gas in the car, and you grieve. You shop, do laundry, go to work, and grief goes along with you. It’s like a shadow hovering, invading, encroaching on what used to be your soul and now that soul is as tattered as a moth eaten rag and you find it harder to do the things. To eat, work, sleep, do it over. She couldn’t keep trying to make them all understand.

Kaitlyn begged off with a headache and went to bed at nine. Chase pulled up a few minutes later. By the time Ella came to tell her he was there, Kaitlyn had swallowed thirty Oxycodone pills, had a fentanyl patch under each arm and three on her stomach. Ella dimmed the lights in deference to her sister’s headache. Chase always had a way with women, any woman. Ella was laughing at something he had said, Kaitlyn wore a smile that, for a change, didn’t look pained or forced. Her glass slipped out of her hand, Chase grabbed it before it could bounce a second time. Ella turned the lights up and screamed. He pulled Kaitlyn’s limp body from the chair and started CPR. A neighbor, hearing Ella’s cries for help had called the police, EMT’s were on their way. First officers on scene took over for Chase, he found Ella outside. On her knees begging a god he had long ago given up on to spare her sister. He tried to shield her from the County Medical Examiner van, and failed.

Ella clawed her way to her sister’s sheet covered body bag, sobbing out that she had to get in one more hug. One last I wish I had been a better sister. Doors banged closed as reporters called out questions from the yellow police tape line.

Jen Erickson yelled from the pack. Mr. Monroe, are you responsible for this death too? The last thing anyone expected was for Ella to yank the mic out of Jen’s hand and proceed to beat the woman with it until it broke, Ella’s hand tangled in the reporters hair as the cameraman tried to stay out of the way. Every bit of pain, anger, and frustration came out and it was all aimed at one body, who, in her snippy question had inadvertently become the story. It took a call to the station from Monroe’s attorney to make certain Ella was not charged. Restraining orders were requested and granted to keep the press at bay during the funeral.

It would be two days before all the pieces of the puzzle fit together and they were able to say how she got the drugs that killed her. Miami-Dade M.E. was bogged down thanks to a weekend from hell and a bus crash. Chase’s opinion was that it gave Ella time to pack Kaitlyn’s life away in cardboard boxes. She couldn’t deal with it then. Like her sister, she needed time to grieve the loss of someone who had been her best friend forever.

We’ve been over this Chase. Yes, I understand that you feel somehow responsible and you have been as honest as the day is long but. Ella’s fingers tangled in the fringe of her scarf as she spoke.

I have no immediate responsibilities. It’s me and a dog. You and your husband have what did you say? Five kids? A farm, more than enough to take on. Let me do this. It’s one more thing you and your husband won’t have to worry about. If your kids are like me and my brothers, the doctor is on speed dial. She chuckled and nodded. I swear, my old man used duct tape to hold us together until he could get us to the office for stitches. Ella laughed out loud then. He won. He had a way with women.

Charlie stared at the carpet on the plane floor, eight red lines one way and seven the opposite in blue, the next square was reversed. The odd things she discovered while waiting on everyone to gather their carry-on bags and get out of the way. After the last four months she discovered her patience had been blown to hell and if someone even breathed on her back after that flight, she would dissect them with the pastel lavender plastic drink sword she played with. Charlie pulled her backpack out from under her seat, holding it off her shoulder with her thumb. Do you need help? She glanced at the flight attendant. He was slim, as pale as a marshmallow, his glasses were old school aviator style modified with a modern color metal and scaled down to fit his face better.

No, thank you, I’m going to have a hellacious layover so I’m in no rush.

He waited at the door, as she made it midway into the tunnel she heard one of the other attendants say She looks good for being blown up. Her lip curled as she thought, They’d shit a brick if they knew it was twice. Charlie exited the tunnel from her plane to the kiss and hug area. First things first, get my baggage and then book a flight. Glancing out the smoked glass window, she fought against flashbacks by focusing in on gulls in acrobatic dips and spins. They raced off only to speed back a few seconds later. Charlie took a deep breath and slowly blew it out. Muttering I got this shit, she headed for the baggage area.

Overhead, birds squawked as they swooped in huge arcs, not at all concerned that they competed with the aging funeral director as he read the last of the eulogy. In the words of her favorite poet, Dorothy Parker, I think, no matter where you be, You’ll hold me in your memory And keep my image, there without me. Kaitlyn Denise Savoy, may you rest in peace.

Ella watched as dirt landed on top of her sister’s casket. Next to her, the only other person who believed Kaitlyn had been worth any effort to save from the crap hand she had been dealt. Ella could not begin to fathom the level of depression her sister had sunk to. As she also could not grasp