Saving Me (Blackstone, #1): Blackstone, #1

By Nickie Nalley Seidler

On the run from a man who's become a monster, Stacy abandons her old life. It's here that she meets Jack, the sexy neighbor with the ready smile, a heart of gold, and a very complicated past. 

Moving on proves to be way more difficult when the monster turns up dead, and the mafia shows up to collect on his debts. In the wake of tragedy, Stacy's new identity is born, and a new beginning blossoms. 

Alone, far from home, and with so many questions still left unanswered, Stacy now has to trust Jack with her secrets, fight the past that haunts her, and take back her life before it's too late.

Bullets fly and sirens wail. At the end of the day, who's going to be left standing?

"And don't even get me started on the twists and turns and WTFs all settled within these amazing pages. I thought I had it figured out then BOOM! Plot twist. I'm pretty sure the author is sitting on a beach somewhere sipping fruity drinks and laughing through an evil grin at the way she left me hanging. I mean... uggghhh. Is book two out yet?!?" ~Amazon Review

"Saving Me was so much more than I ever expected. While there is a romance, it was the suspense that kept me turning the pages. Every time I thought I had figured out what was going to happen, a few pages later I realized how wrong I was." ~Amazon Review

"This Author is new to me and OH MY, have I been hooked. From the moment you turn the first page, cover to cover you will not be let down." ~Goodreviews Review

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nickie Nalley Seidler
• Release date: May 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386837022

Book preview

DEDICATION

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Don’t take shit. Run and start your beginning.

You owe it to yourself.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

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To Megaen for all her effort in seeing my vision and helping me to carry it through to the end. I’m thankful for you and the growth in our friendship. 

To the entire team that makes it possible for me to continue writing books, I owe many thanks. To Glenna for constantly helping me in every which way. To Jennifer for coming up with these beautiful covers. To my betas for all the wonderful feedback and encouragement. To my mama for always helping the story line or sharing your input and formatting everything for me. 

To my daughter for always inspiring me to keep doing what I love to prove to you that dreams do come true. 

To my husband for always believing in me and my books even if he may not read them lol. 

Lastly to my readers, you are what makes me keep going. Thank you. 

CHAPTER 1

Stacy

The smell of cigarette smoke lingered in the apartment. The dingy yellow color coated our walls as I sat back on the sofa and took the room in. A room that once was filled with love and joy, that smelled like home cooked meals, and baked pies, was now the worst sight of my life. My feelings were inconsequential, and my attempt to help Nolan wasn’t working anymore. He was past the point of assistance from me, he was at the point he needed professional help. Our life wasn’t great anymore—it was horrific. I dreaded seeing him walk out of the bedroom high on drugs, with a cigarette hanging off his lip, sporting four day no shower hair. His eyes were sunken in, his skin barely had color to it. His appearance was that of a lifeless zombie getting by day to day. The weight he shed emphasized the strung out look. The bedroom we used to make love in, the same room we used to lay together in and talk about our future. The future we both could see, that was until he received his honorable discharge from the military. He no longer envisioned the future—our future. After his vision failed him, mine was shortly failing me, too.

My heart hurt, it ached for him, and it wounded us, but mostly me. I missed the person I was, and hated the person I had become. I was so depressed because of how things had been the last six months. I went to work, came home, and went to sleep. I barely ate. I hardly looked presentable enough to be a teacher. I hid in that bedroom and lived for being alone. Which was far from who I used to be.

Nolan had become paranoid, thinking I was cheating on him. Hell, I could go to the grocery store and he’d think I was having an affair. I’d never given him reason to think that. I had always been nothing but loyal to him. I was starting to stay locked in the apartment, while he lived his pathetic life of not including me in it. If anyone should be suspicious, it should have been me. He went to the bars, spent his disability check on bullshit, booze, drugs and cigarettes. Expected me to pay the rent and the bills on my teaching salary while still being the best girlfriend he remembered, when he wasn’t anywhere near the man I fell in love with. I understood war changed people, and believe me, it had gone through my head so much to make myself feel guilty for even faulting him for any of his flaws since he’d been home and the life he’d been through. But I couldn’t keep doing it anymore. My life had to start changing, whether that meant with him or without him. He had to accept his flaws, and get the help he needed. Nolan wasn’t very accepting of his imperfections though. It was time to approach him to both pack my bags and move on with my life, free from the fear. I felt he was not going to take this well, and he would refuse all and any help, denying the problem he clearly had. Or he was going to accept the help and want me by his side. I knew what was going to happen, but I had optimism he’d want me around for it. Screw hope, I had one pre-packed bag hid in our closet. The closet that didn’t have a door because Nolan knocked it down by punching his way through it, with the thought that I was hiding something. The same reason our apartment was shit. Destroyed, walls stained, smelt, furniture torn up from men breaking in and demanding money he didn’t have. I couldn’t live like that anymore. It was starting to endanger my life, and as much as he acted as if he cared, if he cared, this wouldn’t have happened period. He didn’t care.

I had the last of my clothes in the laundry room downstairs at our apartment building. It was a three story building with three units on each floor. It was a pretty place, until Nolan fucked it up. I knew Nolan was going to be home in about an hour, which left me enough time to finish packing my last bag and hiding it, before settling on this conversation. I dreaded every second of it feeling my nerves bubbling deep in the pit of my stomach, but a part of me couldn’t wait. Couldn’t wait until a huge block was lifted off my chest and the stress off my shoulders. I wanted to feel free and alive, and bursting with the happiness that used to be present in my life. I knew deep in my heart I had to mentally prepare myself for the worst.

Stumbling down the stairs, I tripped on the second to last stair sending my basket soaring to the floor. Well this would be added to the list of bruises.

Are you okay? The strange voice appeared and came running out of the laundry room.

I laughed sarcastically. That would be my luck. His soft but veiny strong hand reached down to mine. Accepting his hand, I retrieved my basket with my other hand, raising up from the floor. Thank you, I’m fine. Just clumsy, apparently. I rolled my eyes to myself, not making eye contact with him yet.

I’m Jack, I think I live on your floor. My eyes shyly met his. He smiled showing me how lovely his smile was. The smallest thing to take for granted, but I hadn’t seen a smile, in a very long time. Unless it was a sadistic one from Nolan. Or the fake smiles I plastered on my face during working hours at the school I taught at to get by.

Stacy, nice to meet you. I nodded, making my way into the laundry room. Sorry, didn’t mean to keep you from the dryer. Let me get these out of there for you. I scrambled pulling my clothes out of the dryer one by one shaking them out.

It’s no problem, it’s Sunday, nowhere else to be but in the laundry room. He chuckled, swaying from one foot to the other like in an awkward conversation. One where everything you said or did was awkward.

Leaning down into the dryer for the clothes, I noticed the sleeves of my dress rode up my arms leaving my black and blue marks visibly known. I peeked at him to see him looking right at me, before I quickly slid my sleeves down before grabbing the last of my clothes from the dryer.

All yours. I forged a smile not meeting his eyes and focused on the heavy basket in my arms full of clothes I’d have to fold. I didn’t want to show any more of my embarrassed fucked up life. As I started to walk toward the door, he stopped me, slightly touching my arm, sending goose bumps up my frame stopping me dead in my tracks. Touch hasn’t resonated well with me lately.

Stacy, he whispered, I know this isn’t my place, but I live next door to you and I hh-hear things. He scanned my arms then diverted back to my eyes, piercing me with his stare. If you’re in any trouble...

Thank you, Jack. I knew where the conversation was going to escalate to. Hurrying past him, I ran up the stairs one by one sometimes two at a time as fast as I could with a basket of laundry in my arms, and shut the door to my apartment behind me. My cheeks reddened with sadness, my heart was heavy pounding in my chest. My lungs felt like I had been on a treadmill running for an hour. My airways felt constricted, anxiety in full swing. My back pressed against the door, I slid to the floor, and unleashed the hurt I’d been feeling for so long. I shouldn’t have let my sleeves slide up on me like that. I shouldn’t have let him see anything. I cursed every cuss word I knew and sat there crying. Infuriated that Nolan had done this to me. Angry with myself that I continued to allow him to do that to me. I felt powerless, so out of my own character. Like I was prisoner in my own home. I overheard the main entry door in the hallway slam, and the heavy feet to follow thumping right toward the door I sat against. I recognized the sound. Shit! Nolan. I rose quickly, knees shaky, and snatched my basket full of clothes off the floor and flew to the bedroom and pitched it on the bed. I dabbed my eyes with my fingertips to clear the tears, and straightened myself up fast, throwing strands of my hair behind my ears. I was trying to look like I hadn’t been balling my eyes out, not like he’d care, but he’d hit me for it just because. Folding my clothes, I heard Nolan enter the apartment, slamming the door behind him making me jump from the abrupt noise. When did it get this bad?

What the fuck are you doing, Stacy? he barked.

In here. I made sure my tears weren’t visible, knowing he was in a bad mood if he already started out the conversation like that. Nolan petrified me most days, so I made sure I was on the side of the bed folding where I was furthest from the door. Hoping, he’d stand at a distance. But I wasn’t sure why I had wishful thinking.

He walked in stomping his feet making the floor creek below him. His tall, firm frame stood over the bed taunting me with his stare. Folding fucking clothes is more important than paying the fucking bills? He slurred. The fucking bank is calling me about your fucking car payment being fifteen days late. You fucking tarnish my credit and you’ll see what’s up. The threats, he always made threats. My life was threatened so many times I was surprised I was still alive. I was so stupid.

I’m sorry, Nolan, I don’t have the money right now. I just paid rent and the electric bill, I didn’t have anything left over. I’ll pay it next week with that paycheck. You can’t keep spending money on God only knows what and expect me to have all the money for our responsibilities. I refused to make eye contact. I knew he’d be pissed at my response. My heart sunk into my chest and started beating rapidly, as if it had stopped at all from seconds earlier, for what was to come. I should have left out that last part, but a part of me wanted to stick up and say something for everything he put me through. What he didn’t know was, I just started saving money and stashed it for the opportunity to leave. I didn’t have more than two hundred dollars, but it was a start. The anger in his eyes ignited when I stole a glimpse up at him. His olive green gaze piercing through mine as though he had no soul. Like he wasn’t even living. It made me so sad. That reminded me of how I had felt about myself.

What the fuck you mean you don’t have the money right now? And don’t you fucking dare talk to me that way, bitch! He spat as he stomped toward me.

Don’t come any closer! I shouted, terrified of the man thundering toward me like he’d pound me into a grave someday. Or maybe today.

You think you can tell me what to do?

The next thing I saw was his fist right before it came down and punched me in the face.

Nolan, I screamed, stop, please stop! I cried, screaming out in horror from the first blow. My head felt pained instantly shooting pins and needles through my skull. As if I was on a tilt-a-whirl ride at the carnival, I felt dizzy and sick. This time Nolan didn’t stop. Second blow. Yup, today was that day. I prayed he would knock me out cold so I wouldn’t feel the rest. Even though it felt like my skull was crushing from the impact. Closing my eyes, I waited for the end. There was no fighting back with Nolan. He was too strong. He was too large of a man for a petite woman like me. The second I’d put my arm up to cover myself he pinned it down with all his strength. This was it. I was too late.

My saving grace was the hammering at the door. I had no clue who that would be, my only thought was his dealer demanding something else now. But, it saved me, from whatever it was Nolan was going to do to me. He scared the living shit out of me, and I was nervous to confront him with the inevitable conversation. I knew it wasn’t going to be a conversation anymore. The bold me, the one with the world on her shoulders that would have said something in a heartbeat, cowered in the corner while he hurried to the door to see who it was. I was ashamed while my body was shaking, I felt weak. Weak like a twist tie, where you could bend it every direction you wanted while you decided the ties fate. That’s how I felt. Nolan had been deciding my fate. Today that changed. I was going to escape. Once the door creaked and swung open I heard nothing. My heart stabbed my chest in anticipation for what was coming next. Weak, sick, shock—the emotions overwhelmed me. My body pinned against the wall, trying to be silent, so I could hear the throbbing sound in my head making it hard to hear.

Who’s there? He yelled. Don’t fucking prank me. You don’t know who you’re messing with! He roared louder sending chills down my spine. His voice echoed within the walls. The walls that I used to feel so happy in, were now tarnished with hate. Who was that man in my apartment? That wasn’t the man that I thought I knew. That wasn’t the man I loved. Or used to.

That was my opportunity to escape. I jolted out of the corner, adrenaline kicking in and suddenly I had become stronger. I felt something drop onto my arm and saw it was blood. He busted my lip. Another drop hit the floor, and I touched my head. Above my eye there was more blood. I quickly clutched my purse, phone, and my backpack—the only bag I had packed that had the necessities in case I ever needed a quick escape. This was it. Fuck the conversation. I darted out of the room as fast as I could to the door and right under Nolan’s arm resting on the doorway and my feet didn’t stop. My heart plummeted and my nerves kicked up an extra notch. Sending myself on a high voltage alert ready to explode. From fear or excitement that I got past him. I heard him shout and I heard another door open, and he was silent. The only sounds I heard were my footsteps pounding on each step as I flew down the stairs trying to exit the building. He wasn’t entirely stupid, he would never show in person how he acted toward me. Which made me realize how aware and exactly how wrong what he was doing to me was. After all the pep talks I was relieved I finally gained enough power to run. Visions that I’d have hands on my shoulders shoving me backwards into the wall while he violently stopped me, put the fear of death in me. I couldn’t stop.

He was ruining me and controlling me in ways I never thought possible. I wasn’t his possession. I was not going to be mistreated any longer. I licked my lip feeling the sting as I sucked in some more blood. Finally, I made it down the stairs and out into the flow of the bustling city. I paced, fast and away from 201 Porter Street.

I heard footsteps catching up to me and my heart lurched, fear and panic settled in. Freaked out, I spun around to see, well, not Nolan.

Stacy! he shouted before trying to touch my lip cautiously, frightened of what he saw, his eyes widened with fear. That was also when I realized how much pain Nolan inflicted. My head started thrashing from the pain from the punches that really happened. It wasn’t a dream, I wasn’t safe yet.

Jack? What are you doing here? I licked my lip.

I heard him, I distracted him. Are you ok?

Nope. I shook my head, tears rising to the surface. I was antsy, scanning every which direction. I was still too close to the building, and that made me panic. My heart beating a mile a minute. He couldn’t see me. I turned away from Jack and started my brisk walk.

Stop, let me help you! He ran after me.

I stopped and turned on my heel, he saw the horror in my eyes. I can’t be here right now. He can’t see me.

Before I knew it, footsteps were next to me. Then I’m coming with you.

I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders. I wasn’t arguing. I wasn’t going to debate with anyone, I needed to get away. As he silently jogged next to me, I took myself through midtown and finally chose a mom and pop restaurant to hide. I kept my eyes in check constantly looking over my shoulder for Nolan. My stomach was tense with anxiety. My breathing rough. I grabbed the booth in the corner, and caught my breath. I tried to process what the hell happened. I wanted to feel free, to feel like I’d won. But the only feeling I still felt, was fear.

Fear he’d find me.

Fear he’d finish what he started.

Nothing about that feeling told me I was free.

Jack took the seat across from me.

I don’t need anyone, and I don’t need anyone’s pity. My lip trembled, I tried to keep it together. Let’s face it, I was embarrassed. So ashamed I wasn’t sure I wanted to involve anyone in the mess. My mess. It was the most trying moment of my life. There I sat in a booth, blood from my face to my lip visibly beaten sitting in a public place where people tried not to stare. I saw them. Judging me and making assumptions about my life that they had not one clue about. Hell, I could see them judging Jack, probably assuming he was the one who did it to me. I never wanted to involve anyone. The more I involved, the more complicated it would be.

His eyes searched mine as if he was trying to read me, a complete stranger. I’m not here to offer you pity, unless you want it, but I’m here to help you.

I blew, Help me what? I was getting bothered. As much as I craved the help, Jack was a stranger. He didn’t know me, he didn’t know my life, and clearly he was trying to intervene his way in to something he knew nothing about, that he would regret the second he entered. The more people involved the worse it would be. Nolan was not going to let me walk away.

"I’m not an idiot, Stacy. Please don’t regard me in that way. My bedroom buts up to your bedroom, the walls are thin, and I hear everything. He enunciated the word everything. I hear things that would give people nightmares at night. Don’t try to pretend you don’t need the damn help, because you do. I know I’m a stranger to you, but I want to help. Nobody deserves that bullshit!"

His eyes shot daggers, they ripped through me with the talk I needed. Tough love. The push I needed to accept help. This was a complete outsider. I knew better than that. I also knew, I didn’t have much else for help. I had a co-worker in my school that I became friends with, but she was in the dark about everything in my life. She knew I had a boyfriend that was it. I knew I could call her and she’d be there, she was a work friend. The last thing I needed was work finding out about this, or rumors being spread because she would have to do the right thing. I wasn’t about doing the right thing, I was about getting away. I had one other option, which was my Grandfather, the one who raised me after my parents died. I didn’t want to involve him. I had another, but that was really, really, my last resort. I guess it didn’t matter, my job as a teacher there was over.

A month ago I had planned on getting another apartment behind Nolan’s back for my great escape. I planned to move at least three hours away and start over. Then, Nolan decided he had my money to use for his drugs. My savings disappeared in probably two days and it shut me so far out of the world. Which was also why I stopped paying bills so that I could save the money to escape. I couldn’t believe what was happening to me in my pathetic life. My mouth formed a flat line.

That was what you saw on TV on shows and movies. It was the type of thing nobody discussed. I was so pathetic. I had a pitiful life of domestic abuse, what I taught my students to avoid, or to talk about, speak up, and there I was, sitting silent. Not wanting to accept help. Not wanting to tell a soul. The only difference was, this man heard things. Things he shouldn’t have.

I let out a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment shaky in my seat. Sweat trickling down my face not from exhaustion but being panicked and worked up.  I’m not sure how you could help me, Jack.

"Look, you don’t need to tell me anything. I get it, I’m a stranger. I’m the only one you have