Beyond Here Lies Nothing

By C.J Duggan

When a big-city agent wants to rent the abandoned chapel on the Bowens’ property for an obscene amount of money, it seems like a deal of a lifetime . . . there’s just one small catch.

Nathaniel Black.

Disgraced, broken-down, whisky-swilling rock god Nathaniel Black is set to make a comeback, or at least that’s what his long-suffering agent is hoping.

Nathaniel’s last chance for salvation is to lock himself away from the temptations of his wicked life. With no women, no booze, and no drugs. Only the music. The one thing he didn’t count on was forming a complex, life-changing bond with a reclusive, talented songbird, Sadie Bowen.

Twenty three-year-old Sadie has all of Nathaniel’s cassette tapes under her bed and his tattered poster lining the inside of her wardrobe door. And now he’s here, in her backyard, eating her food and sharing her bathroom—a dream come true, right? Until Sadie realises her teenage idol is the most infuriating, arrogant man-child she has ever met.

Will seclusion lead to destruction? Or will Sadie finally get a chance to learn who the real man is behind the music? One thing is clear: despite every voice inside her head telling her to stay away, she can’t.

She can’t help it, can’t fight it.

Nathaniel Black is about to become her favourite mistake.

• Language: English
• Publisher: C.J Duggan
• Release date: Oct 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9781311454904

C.J Duggan

C.J Duggan is an Internationally Number One Best Selling Author who lives with her husband in a rural border town of New South Wales, Australia. When she isn't writing books about swoony boys and 90's pop culture you will find her renovating her hundred-year-old Victorian homestead or annoying her local travel agent for a quote to escape the chaos. The Boys of Summer is Book One in her highly successful New Adult Romance Series. For more on CJ and her books visit, www.cjdugganbooks.com

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Beyond Here Lies Nothing

Copyright © 2019 by C.J. Duggan

Published by C.J. Duggan

Australia, NSW

www.cjdugganbooks.com

All rights reserved.

This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited.

Disclaimer: The persons, places, things, and otherwise animate or inanimate objects mentioned in this novel are figments of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to anything or anyone living (or dead) is unintentional.

Edited by Hot Tree Editing

Copyedited by Anita Saunders

Proofreading by Jenny Sims

E-book design by Inkstain Design Studio

Cover Art by Keary Taylor Indie Designs

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Beyond Here Lies Nothing is also available in paperback.

CONTENTS

Pretty Pine

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Acknowledgements

About C.J. Duggan

Let’s Keep In Touch!

Also by C.J. Duggan

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THE SUMMER SERIES

The Boys of Summer

Stan (Novella)

An Endless Summer

Max (Novella)

That One Summer

Ringer (Novella)

Forever Summer

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THE PARADISE SERIES

Paradise City

Paradise Road

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THE HEART OF THE CITY SERIES

Paris Lights

New York Night

London Bound

When in Rome

Hollywood Heartbreak

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www.cjdugganbooks.com

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He came from nowhere—just another stranger blowing into our backward town. They come, they go; no one ever stays in Pretty Pine for long. Except he wasn’t just anybody. He was very much a somebody. A very talented, very sexy, very famous somebody. Breathe, Sadie. Just. Breathe.

***

When a big-city agent wants to rent the abandoned chapel on the Bowens’ property for an obscene amount of money, it seems like the deal of a lifetime . . . there’s just one small catch.

Nathaniel Black.

Disgraced, broken-down, whisky-swilling rock god Nathaniel Black is set to make a comeback, or at least that’s what his long-suffering agent is hoping.

Nathaniel’s last chance for salvation is to lock himself away from the temptations of his wicked life. With no women, no booze, and no drugs. Only the music. The one thing he didn’t count on was forming a complex, life-changing bond with a reclusive, talented songbird, Sadie Bowen.

Twenty-three-year-old Sadie has all of Nathaniel’s cassette tapes under her bed and his tattered poster lining the inside of her wardrobe door. And now he’s here, in her backyard, eating her food and sharing her bathroom—a dream come true, right? Until Sadie realises her teenage idol is the most infuriating, arrogant man-child she has ever met.

Will seclusion lead to destruction? Or will Sadie finally get a chance to learn who the real man is behind the music? One thing is clear: despite every voice inside her head telling her to stay away, she can’t.

She can’t help it, can’t fight it.

Nathaniel Black is about to become her favourite mistake.

For Michael

I love you all the roads.

The flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all.

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—ANONYMOUS

PRETTY PINE

1994

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There are only two instances in life when meticulously cutting out images of the one you admire to build a shrine is acceptable: if you were a) a serial killer or b) a teenage girl. Luckily, I was the latter.

Biting my tongue, I guided the blades around the outer edge of the glossy magazine, almost holding my breath at the very last slice. The cut-out dropped onto the pile.

Perfect.

My masterpiece was nearly complete. I gently slid the images out, marvelling at my handiwork with an inner glory of how dead jealous Anna Morrow was going to be come Monday morning when she beheld my creation. Carefully selecting the images, I placed the pictures on the cover of my Year Seven school diary. This year’s theme was, like many other thirteen-year-old girls’, Nathaniel Black. Rocking sex god of Captain Black and the Heartbreakers, an Australian rock band that had climbed its way up from the pub scene trenches and won radio’s coveted SunFM Discovery competition. They had risen to instant stardom, capturing the hearts of many moody prepubescent teens. The boys wanted to be him, and the girls wanted, well, ‘other’ things. We would lazily stare at our magazines and dream about being the one! It was easy to do, getting lost in Nathaniel’s eyes that peeked through the curtain of his dark hair.

My cassette player blared out the crackly version of Captain Black’s ‘Rebel Heart,’ the very song that had won them their rock god title, the very one I had taped off the radio and listened to so many times I ran the risk of it getting chewed up in the inner workings of my tape player. Every time I heard the high-pitched whirring of the tape being chewed, I would dive for the player in an attempt to salvage the cassette with an emergency procedure involving a pencil.

If only I had their CD—and a CD player too. Just like the one that sat on Anna’s bedhead. It was the biggest thing I had ever seen, with multiple vertical adjustments and lights that lit up in time with the bass; it was unbelievable. And Nathaniel sounded so good from her speakers. I tried not to think about it every time I wound my tape back into place. I would never ask Grandad for one; he still thought kids listened to vinyl records.

I glued the last image of Nathaniel carefully onto my diary, smoothing out the air bubbles over the glossy paper. Eyes closed, mouth open, cupping the microphone with both hands and leaning forward in his signature move when he sang a ballad. I sighed, flipping over the plastic protector and slotting the cover back in place, holding it up before me like a thing of wonder. So insanely impressed with what I had created, I kissed the cover and hugged it to my chest.

Wait until Anna gets a load of this.

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The bus ride to school seemed to take forever. I sat in my usual place in the back corner on my own, which never really bothered me. I never felt really alone; I always had Nathaniel to daydream about as I glanced out over the dusty horizon. The sun-bleached hill we travelled over was the only one of its kind separating the outskirts of Pretty Pine from the town and the flat land where the glossy new high school had been constructed. I should have been excited about starting at Pretty Pine High, but somehow, leaving the comfortable little corner of my primary school was rather terrifying. Change didn’t come naturally for me. All the kids across the region would be coming to the new education facility. A lot of new faces, a lot of privilege: if I hadn’t been able to escape through my music, through Nathaniel, I wouldn’t have gotten through the days. My grandad said I was a natural worrier, and I tried not to let the anxiety out in front of him, but I guess my rather short fingernails were a bit of a giveaway.

I hated the ride in. I couldn’t get there quick enough to meet Anna by the lockers. She was my one true friend, a blow-in from the new estates on the other side of town. We only met on orientation day late last year, the day we discovered that not only did we share a love for Nathaniel, but ... well, come to think of it, we really didn’t have much else in common; if anything, we were in a competition of sorts, one I would never win as she always had the best of everything.

Like most days, I was the last to step off the bus. I self-consciously pushed my sock down because one of the elastics had broken and I wanted to seem like I had intended to wear them down like this. While everyone in the world was breaking in their Doc Martens, I was already scuffing up my Blundstones and wishing the earth’s surface would open up and swallow me whole instead of having to face school like this. But my unlikely friendship with Anna and our bond over all things Nathaniel made me forget the little things that usually felt huge.

I tried to remain calm when all I wanted to do was run to the locker room and shove my diary in Anna’s face. But my rather frenzied plan was halted mid-unhook of my backpack strap when I heard the squeals echo in the hall near the Year Seven lockers. A group of girls—who in a sense were the group of girls I hung out with at lunchtime, thanks to Anna—were all gathered in a huddle, blocking my path to not only where Anna stood but also to my locker. I busily and rather coolly excused and slid my way in amongst the fray, much to their side-eyed annoyance.

Oh my God, I am SO excited!

I freaking love you so much right now!

I can’t believe it, feel my heart!

They all huddled over a Star Hits magazine, which could only mean one thing. I awkwardly shoved backwards to my locker, holding my diary to my chest as I squeezed on in.

What’s this?

My voice, however small, was not missed as all eyes shifted to me. I ignored the odd few that always seemed to shift down to my shoes with disdain. I didn’t think I would ever get used to that look, but I was only interested in one set of eyes, wide and seemingly surprised that I was there even though we met at the lockers every day and talked all things Nathaniel Black. And I thought today was no different, the way Anna held the magazine so tightly.

Oh, guess what—

Nathaniel Black is coming to Rosewood, blurted out Debbie.

Rosewood?

That’s, like, super close, added Rebecca.

My heart started to pound as I glanced down at the paper; sure enough, a list of dates was displayed next to an image of the band.

Oh my God, they were coming to the next town to play ... THIS Friday night!

My eyes snapped up to meet Anna’s, ready to start a synchronised jump and squeal at the very notion that Nathaniel Black, our one true love, would be potentially within touching distance, but Anna didn’t squeal; her eyes were still wide, and she stood frozen.

It’s sold out, though, added Debbie, and as quickly as my heart began thundering, it stopped dead. Now it made sense, now I could see the reason Anna was stunned. Stunned and disappointed.

Before I could join in on the very disappointment that was seeping from my own soul, Debbie butted in again.

But get this ... she said, her hands splayed out in dramatic effect.

Debbie. Anna cut her a dark look.

Debbie ignored the warning. Anna’s mum got tickets!

And we’re all going! screamed Rebecca. That, in turn, resulted in a chaotic mass hysteria of jumping and screaming, including me.

Oh my God, oh my God, I couldn’t believe it. I was going to be breathing the same air as Nathaniel; I could be, come Friday, reaching up from the crowd and touching his hands when he reached out to the crowd as he liked to do. He was ever the showman, so generous to his audience. And now I was going to be the audience: this was truly the best day ever. Why wasn’t Anna more excited?

The bell barely cut through our excitement; slowly, we blinked back into our realities and went to our lockers. Anna, silently rolling the dial on her lock, looked annoyed and not in the least bit excited.

Hey, are you okay?

Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? she snapped.

I slowly slid my diary under my folder; clearly, now was not the time.

We headed to class in silence, the weight of an unknown shadow hanging over us. Maybe she was just nervous or annoyed that Debbie and Bec had gatecrashed the Nathaniel Black appreciation club, seeing as the only members were Anna and me. President and treasurer, to be precise. If anything, Debbie had always mocked our love for Nathaniel, and as far as anyone knew, they weren’t even fans of Captain Black, so I could see how she would be annoyed; her parents were too generous. But Anna’s birthday was coming up, so it kind of made sense, although I was sure she would also get something extra extravagant then. Anna lived in the new estate where everything was polished and square. The lawns, the cars, the kitchen benches, the pools. All little Lego houses side by side; it was a world away from my little house on the hill.

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Running out of the school grounds was seriously uncool. In high school, it was all about walking and sitting and hanging. Long gone were the chasing and skipping and chicken fights of yesteryear. But today, Debbie pulled me along the path, and we ran towards Anna’s mother’s Volvo station wagon. She was standing elegantly next to it, her designer sunglasses glinting in the sun as she talked to Bianca Biehn’s mother, who was self-consciously pulling down her stained jumper over her leggings and probably wishing she was anywhere else but here.

Maybe it was the uncool thuds of our feet, or the squeals Debbie and Bec were emitting that had Anna’s mum clocking our approach with a smile. Her bright, beaming smile and her bright blue eyes were exposed as she casually lifted her glasses to park them on her perfectly coifed hair. Sandra Morrow always looked as if she had just stepped out of a salon.

Hello, girls. Her voice was smooth, cultured. She really wasn’t from around here.

Breathless, we said, Hi, Mrs Morrow.

Which only caused her to chuckle. She didn’t really approve of the title; past protests had been that it made her sound old, and by all accounts, she was one of the ‘cool’ mums.

"Anyone would think you were dying to see a certain someone," she teased.

Mum. Anna rolled her eyes.

Oh, all right, all right, I won’t prolong the agony, she said, reaching into her car and grabbing a crisp white envelope.

My heart beat so fast I wondered if I was going to suffer any long-term damage. Holding my breath also seemed quite detrimental, but I just couldn’t help it. I was overcome with such excitement and anxiety and immense gratefulness that I could barely keep my knees from trembling.

Let’s see, I have written your names on the back ... She flicked through the envelope so agonisingly slowly, struggling largely due to her long French-polished nails.

Okay, Miss Debbie. She flicked out the ticket and handed it over.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

She blinked slowly with a smile down at Debbie. Miss Rebecca. She flicked out another ticket with dramatic flair, much to Rebecca’s delight.

Thank you, Mrs Morrow!

Anna’s mum double blinked, her eyes kind but still seemingly jarred by the formality.

You’re welcome. Let’s see, Miss Emma. The ticket whooshed past my face and was gobbled up by a breathless Emma.

Thank you soooo much.

Wouldn’t be much of a birthday, would it, without one for Annaaaaa! We all squealed, caring little about what anyone thought of our manic reactions. The anticipation was both glorious and overwhelming. I thought I might faint.

One ticket sat in the envelope still, the yellow edge poking out tauntingly; my fingers were tingling, waiting to reach out as soon as Miss Sadie was announced.

So when Sandra Morrow flipped over the flap of the envelope and placed it back into her car, slamming the glove compartment shut, it was the loudest, most deafening thud, aided only by the fact that all the bouncing and squealing had stopped and now an eerie silence fell over the group. It took a mere moment for the mood shift to register with Sandra, who followed Debbie’s awkward side eyes; only then did her attention swing my way, as if noticing me for the first time.

Oh, Sadie, she stuttered.

Anna couldn’t look at me. Her voice barely audible, she said, You got five tickets, Mum.

Sandra Morrow did a double take. I told you, that one’s for your sister.

Lauren doesn’t even know who he is, Anna whined.

I’m sorry, Anna, but I promised she could go with you. A new solemnness shifted over everyone, and it wasn’t exactly pity for me but the fact they now had Anna’s eleven-year-old sister tagging along.

I stood still, waiting for someone to yell, Only kidding, but it never came. There was no apology, no offer, not from any one of the girls who knew I lived and breathed all things Nathaniel Black. They saw it on my diary, in my locker, scribbled across my workbooks, and in the music I listened to. I loved him more than anything or anyone, and my hands were empty. My eyes were full, and with every ounce of my being, I told myself to hold it together; running was uncool, squealing was uncool, but bawling your eyes out, falling to the ground and sobbing would not be a great look at all. But as much as I tried, I could feel the hot tears burn in my eyes.

Sadie, I’m sorry, Anna said lowly, almost inaudibly, so the effect was kind of lost. I didn’t want those words to come from her; I wanted Sandra to say them. To say she was sorry, she’d miscalculated and to leave it with her as she would try her hardest to get another ticket from somewhere, or maybe talk to Lauren and see if I could use her ticket. But there was nothing, only the continued awkward silence as Sandra stared down at my flushed face. I was embarrassed. Devastated.

Well, next time, maybe. By then it will be someone else you’ll all be obsessing over, I’m sure. She laughed as if to lighten the mood.

Maybe your grandad could get you a ticket? asked Debbie, who knew as soon as the words left her mouth how ridiculous it sounded. I had seen the price of the tickets; no way could we afford that.

It’s, like, sold out, though, yeah? added Rebecca helpfully.

I couldn’t hear the murmurings, none of it. The only thing that made matters worse was seeing Anna staring at the diary I was holding, the very one I had not shown her because she seemed so distant. She had known there wasn’t a ticket for me; was that why she had cut down Debbie with a look that morning? Had she planned to keep it a secret from me? Looking at her now, I couldn’t be mad; her face was the mirror of my own, and her mother had gone from oh well to anger.

Well, I can’t be expected to remember everything. Anna, get in the car.

I don’t think you had any intentions of getting me a ticket.

Sandra paused, slowly turning, a fire brimming in her eyes so fierce that I stepped back.

OH. MY. GOD. Had I said that out loud?

Excuse me?

The girls all had mouths agape. All the colour had drained from Anna’s face. Had I not been so upset, I would have matched Sandra’s death stare and told her exactly what I had said. This wasn’t the first time I had been left off the list or not invited to the ’burbs for a pool party. The poor, tatty little girl on the hill was not an acceptable accessory, and I knew she hated Anna being my friend. She was the worst for looking me up and down, and that was when she chose to see me at all. Right now, I wished it was not one of those times, but now I had her full attention.

N-nothing, I said lowly, and I hated myself for it. For being a coward, for not telling her exactly what I thought. I blamed my grandad for always instilling manners and respect.

Sandra slowly peeled her gaze from mine. Anna, car, she said, moving her glasses so aggressively back onto her face she poked herself in the eye.

But, Mum—

Now! she yelled, sliding into her Volvo, no doubt about to drive off with one eye open.

She gripped the wheel tightly, and I was oh, so glad she was about to drive away because I couldn’t keep the tears at bay for much longer.

Not everything can always be handed to you, Sadie. You will learn that sometimes you have to work for it, earn it, you know?

It was like a slap in the face; I could have easily looked around me and wondered how exactly any of them had ‘earned’ it. Directing it at me as if I was some kind of bludger who hung off the coattails of rich people. My hands were balled into fists, and a stray tear rolled down my cheek. I was suddenly so mad at myself for letting her see what affect her words had on me.

My silence only seemed to exasperate her as she sighed. Bye, girls. Finally, she drove away, and not a second longer did I wait. I stepped away from the group, from their stares, their murmurs, their pity, even their surprise of me speaking in the way that I had. I couldn’t bear it. I walked past all the four-wheel drives and the chatting mothers and made my way to the bus stop, wishing all of a sudden that I had my own sunglasses. They didn’t have to be designer; I just wanted to hide my tears, to shrink away from the laughing boys playing hacky-sack next to me or the cluster of Year Ten girls giving the side eye to the red-faced girl.

The long, dusty ride home had me dropped off at the end of my drive, and I took the long, pained walk up the hill to where our house sat. My breathing was shallow from the incline but also from the numbness I felt. I reached the house and hurriedly pushed through the screen door; its pained cry as always announcing my arrival before anything else. I quickstepped past my grandad sitting in the kitchen; he barely got the sentence How was your day? out before I entered my room and slammed the door.

I could imagine his bushy white brows rising in alarm as his mind started ticking about what to do with a clearly moody teenage girl.

But I couldn’t care less as I let my school bag drop to the floor. The first thing that greeted me was the Nathaniel Black shrine on my wall. Many of the pictures were from concerts, the very images I had daydreamed about being a part of. Images flashed of Anna, Debbie, Bec, and Emma, even Lauren, in the crush of the crowd, hands reaching out. Now, in the privacy of my own room, I didn’t have to hold it in anymore; I didn’t have to be strong. I didn’t have to care. I fell onto my bed and began to cry, so deep, so agonised, I rolled over and clutched my chest over my heart, and tears streamed past my temples, dampening my hair, my breath hitching in sobs. I shook my head in utter disbelief.

As long as I lived, I would never get over this.

Never, ever, ever.

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10 YEARS LATER

How do you solve a problem like Nathaniel?

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My brain, however small and shrivelled, felt like it was rattling inside my skull.

Wait a minute.

I blinked into a blurry reality and realised my temple was pressed against the window of a car door. Much to my relief, the vibrating stopped when I lifted my head from the glass. I squinted against the sunlight that streamed in through the window, the glow flooding the back interior of the car. The sun was setting over a barren landscape. I groaned and twisted on the leather seat, rubbing the back