Just Jealous

By Reta Jayne

Lanie Donovan's life lacked surprise. But when her twenty-fifth birthday ends with her house burned to the ground, her sister missing, and mysterious creatures showing up all over Opal Springs, her life is turned upside down.

 

Grady Richardson, her best friend and self-appointed protector, steps in to help her find answers, and long-kept secrets begin bubbling to the surface.

 

With temptation around every corner, life is about to change forever.

 

This book is intended for a mature audience, with mildly spicy romantic elements and hints at serious, potentially triggering mental health issues. Reader caution is advised.

National Suicide Prevention Hotline: [phone]

• Language: English
• Publisher: Reta Jayne
• Release date: Jul 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9798986037400

Book preview

Prologue

Lanie - 16 years ago

It was all I could do to keep my composure as I retreated through my front yard, trying to keep a walking pace even though every fiber of my being screamed at me to run away. The familiar sting of tears began to form in my eyes, but I willed them to stay hidden, if just for a few more moments.

As soon as I burst through the front door, my face scrunched and the tears erupted. It was like I’d passed through an invisible barrier that released my self-control.

I was safe! And in front of me, seated in the rolling desk chair facing the computer, was my sister, Lexie. She spun around to face me, and I all but ran to her.

Why are people so mean? I wailed as I lowered my body on top of her in the chair and put my head on her shoulder.

Lexie smelled of vanilla and lilacs as I breathed in. She wrapped her arms around me, and my tears turned into audible sobs.

She was only a few years older, but her resolve was much stronger than my own. I just hadn’t had time to realize my strength yet. I cried at the drop of a hat, always wrapped up in my emotions. But Lexie? People saw her with a straight face amid just about any kind of turmoil. She was the strongest person I knew.

Lexie was my rock. My safe place. My confidant. She was my best friend for as far back as I could remember.

What happened? she inquired, with only a hint of alarm in her voice.

I opened my mouth to speak, but unintelligible wails assaulted our ears. I sucked in air and willed myself to regain some calm. Why would they call me a ‘black bitch?’ I don't even know why that sounds so mean! You should have seen the looks in their eyes and on their faces!

Lexie hugged me tighter as she smoothed my wild brown curls around my face. She kissed the top of my head and rested her lips on my forehead for a moment before saying, Lanie, they are just jealous of you.

I looked up into her green eyes flecked with gold. She must have been able to see the thought floating in my mind: What an odd thing to say!

She responded to my unspoken reflection, as she usually did. God gave you a natural tan, Lanie. You don’t have to do a thing to get your perfect coffee-and-cream complexion. But them? They have to work for theirs—if they don’t turn into lobsters first! She winked at me with a sly, crooked grin; her smile was infectious in all kinds of good ways. How could I not crack a smile through my tears at that?

"They aren’t necessarily jealous that you have a gorgeous tan and to-die-for curls, Lexie continued, but they are jealous that they can’t have your natural beauty for themselves."

That’s a memory from my childhood that stuck with me through the years. Lexie reminded me of how things really were. She didn’t get caught up in her emotions so much that they became crippling. She reminded me that God does not make mistakes—He had grand plans for me—and that there was always something good around the corner. I needed that reminder often, and I could always count on Lexie to be there to deliver it. That thought was so comforting to me.

But of course, at some point, I needed to learn to pull myself out of my cesspool of emotions on my own. That time came years later, and I was not ready for the lesson.

******

6 years ago

Dear Diary,

So, yeah. My mom left me today. I don’t even know what else to say.

This is where I roll my eyes so hard they hurt. Like, how could she do this to me?

"You have graduated high school. You're a legal adult, Lanie." That's what she told me. Mitch was waiting in the car outside. She barely packed anything!

I'd be a liar if I said I didn't see this coming. I just didn't expect it to be so soon and so abruptly!

At least she promised not to sell the house yet. So, I am not homeless too. There's that, I guess.

And she promises to pay the utility bills, so I have a place to live, rent-free!

I just wish she could have seen that it’s her I want around and not just a place to live. I guess that’s just not meant to be for me.

Why couldn’t I have a normal mother?

I guess that’s why God gave me Lexie.

But nothing else in my life makes sense. Not even a little bit.

Chapter 1

Lanie

My chest felt heavy, like it might cave in at any moment. Each breath was a struggle and burned from my nostrils to my throat to my lungs. I opened my eyes and turned from my stomach to my side, trying to get oriented. The bed creaked with my movement, and I noticed other noises outside my bedroom.

Tears ran down my face promptly after opening my eyes. They felt dry and the air around me made my eyes hurt. It was so dark that it didn't do me any good to open them anyway, so I clenched my eyelids shut and focused on my other senses.

Something wasn’t right.

A loud crash from the other side of the bedroom door jarred me further. It was then that I realized my pillow was damp beneath my head. Sweat drenched me.

I sat upright and opened my eyes again.

This time, I saw a dreaded glow from beneath the doorframe. The light flickered and danced with the flames I instinctively knew were on the other side.

What do they tell you to do when you’re caught in a fire? I thought. Stop, drop, and roll? No, that’s what you should do when you are on fire. But what if your house is on fire?

I threw my glasses from the nightstand on my face—not that they would do me much good in the smoke—and dropped from the bed to the floor on my hands and knees.

If the flames were on the other side of the door, how was I supposed to get out? There was no way I would open it and invite the fire to consume me that much more quickly. My only option was the window across the room.

I started crawling toward the curtained window, feeling my way across my laundry-littered bedroom floor. Why can’t I just put my clothes where they belong? Tangled in yesterday’s bra and the jeans worn twice (because I wouldn’t go through the trouble of digging another pair from the pile), I really thought this was going to be the death of me.

I was going to burn to death or die of smoke inhalation, and they would find my charred remains among dunes of laundry, wondering how on earth I could live like that.

Well, I couldn’t live like that, apparently. I would die like that. Of course I would. I could do nothing right anyway.

I habitually sucked in air to sigh at myself and launched into a coughing fit.

Great! I thought. Laundry and self-deprecation. They will both be the death of me now. Focus, Lanie. Focus!

I plowed through the obstacles of discarded clothing and willed myself toward my escape route. Something tugged at my ankle, but I pushed forward and rose to my knees to nudge open the curtains at the only window in the room.

Beyond the glass, I could see the street outside, aglow with a golden light.

This fire must be huge already! How did I sleep through it?

I pulled at the window, but it wouldn’t slide open. Adrenaline bubbled up in me, and my hands began to shake. New tears spilled down my face until I realized I hadn’t checked to see if the lock was still engaged.

It was—of course it was. Why can’t I do anything right?

I flipped the lock and yanked at the window again, and then I started falling backward as I lost my balance. I picked up my foot to take a step, but it caught on something on the floor. I was going down!

The flames dancing outside my door and the burst of cold air from the newly opened window created an odd sensation: hot and sweaty on one side, yet with goosebumps and hardened nipples on the other. It would have almost been arousing if it wasn’t for the sudden burst of pain in the back of my head.

The sharp, excruciating sensation radiated from the back of my skull to the back of my eyes. Then everything went black.

Little did I know, this was not my time to die.

Chapter 2

Grady

W hat is that hanging from her ankle? I asked. I ran up to the firefighter, who was carrying Lanie down the ladder from where he found her in the second-story bedroom.

The fire had overtaken most of the house where she’d grown up. I lived a block away and heard the sirens. Someone must have reported it quickly.

I was so relieved to see Lanie being pulled from the house, but that relief instantly morphed into worry when I saw the soot-tainted blood in her hair. Her body was limp, and she looked lifeless as the first responder set her onto the gurney at the road’s edge.

Are you family? one paramedic barked in my direction.

I, uh… I began. I’m like family.

Well, if you are not family, you can meet her at the hospital. Step aside and let us work, please.

I staggered a few steps backward and watched as they tended to my best friend. I couldn’t believe what was happening. What would I do without her if she didn’t make it?

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. We were too young to be apart already.

The blood on Lanie’s head was hard to see. Why was she bleeding? What had happened after I left?

Guilt set in and I regretted what I had done, no matter how justified it had been.

Chapter 3

Lanie - 18 hours before the fire

The highway appeared in front of me and zipped away behind me at sixty miles per hour as I drove my little Toyota Corolla sedan to the next town over. The green and brown of the