Adrenaline: A Fall Away Series Bonus Content Collection (10 page)

Jared: We’ll have kids if and when we’re ready. Tate and I are in no rush to change things. And I think Tate and I are a lot alike. That kid’s going to have a temper either way.

17. Jax, what was your first impression of K.C??

Jax: That she had a stick up her ass the size of a baseball bat. But I knew there was a real person underneath the façade, and I became more interested in seeing everything she tried to hide.

18. Jared, in the past when you used to bully Tate, was there ever a time you ogled her as much as you did when she came back from France?

Jared: I always ogled Tate. Always.

19. Madoc and Jared, either one or both of you could answer, have you ever thought about or have been in a three-way? If yes, who with. If no, would you?

Madoc: If it had been with two girls instead of a guy and girl, I would’ve gone for it.

Jared: If you read
Until You,
you know the answer to that.

20. Jax, did you feel abandoned when Jared left? How did you get over that feeling?

Jax: No, I didn’t feel abandoned. I had been alone before, and when he left, it was what I expected.

21. Madoc or Jared, who lost their virginity first?

Both: Jax

Jared: Then me.

Madoc: Yeah, I was last. And I wouldn’t change it.

After
Falling Away

Deleted Scenes

K.C. gets arrested…

“This is getting more pathetic by the second,” my college roommate and best friend, Nik, taunted from my side. “What are you going to do, K.C.? Kill him with the power of your stare all night?”

I raised my eyes, glowering at her, knowing damn well what she was trying to do.

“What would you like me to do?” I asked, evening out my voice to hide the tears lodged in my throat. “Kick him in the balls? Get in a cat fight with the girl? I’m better than that, Nik.”

She pursed her lips and arched an eyebrow, gazing across the black dance floor like she wanted to give up on me.

I followed her gaze and shook my head.
 
Yeah, right.
 
I wasn’t better. I was just stupid. I should’ve listened to my mother. She said I should listen to her, and when I don’t, I always regret it.

And here I was, regretting it again as I zoned in on my boyfriend—scratch that, ex-boyfriend—who had his hand up the skirt of a girl who wasn’t me.

Again.

I thought all of Liam’s hearts and flowers meant something in high school. I thought that all of the times he’d said he loved me earned him chances. Turns out, I thought a lot of bullshit.

The truth was…the first time he cheated on me during my senior year of high school, I forgave him, because I couldn’t let my mother be right. I couldn’t let her see my relationship fail and admit that I’d been wrong.

I’d swallowed some self-respect, but I wasn’t swallowing it again. Nik, however, wanted me to go above and beyond. She wanted his dick in a meat grinder.

She sighed, lifting the cranberry and vodka to her lips. “Yeah, I guess that’s why he’s two-timing you,” she spat out in a sharp tone, gesturing with the bright red drink in her hand. “Because you’re better, right? That’s why he’s thinking about you right now as he touches her?” She put her hand on her chest, acting dramatic. “Why he’s showing how much he cares about you by telling you that he had a late final tonight when he really just wanted to take someone else out. I’m starting to wonder how many other things have escaped your notice, K.C.”

The plastic cup in my hand cracked under the pressure, and the tequila shot Nik had ordered me dribbled over my fingers. The burning in my nose heated up even more with my quick breaths.

I needed that shot.
 
Dammit.

Actually, I didn’t need it. I just wanted it. I’d already had another one and half a beer. While I was still only twenty, Nik was twenty-one and had been buying my drinks. That was her answer when times were tough. Load up a row of shot glasses and drink until you’re numb. Not me, though. I’d pace myself. A buzz without being bombed.

She passed me her shot, and I let it sit on the table.

Good friend.
 
The best one I’d had in a while.

Her real name was Nikita—as in
La Femme Nikita.
Her mom had apparently been obsessed with the movie, the American re-make, and the television show. Nik was everything that I wasn’t, and ever since we’d met nearly two years ago, I was in a constant state of envy.

Her long blonde hair hung in small spiral curls, she wore no make-up, and the tattoos around her wrists were ornate and dark. I wanted the blue streaks in her hair, her chipped green nail polish, and her unfashionable black t-shirt that said, ‘My Imaginary Friend Thinks You’re Weird’.

I wanted to be Nik.

And she kind of wanted to get in my pants.

She’d been flirting with me since I first walked into our dorm room at the beginning of freshman year, and while I knew my mother wouldn’t approve of me living with a lesbian, I soon found out I couldn’t live without Nik. She was a breath of fresh air and a reminder that life is all around me when I often tried to block it out.

Of course, she’d love the opportunity to get me naked, but she was really good at just being the kind of friend who gave me a kick in the ass when I needed it.

I’d fallen out of touch with my friends from back home, and other than Nik, I didn’t have a whole hell of a lot here in Arizona that made me happy. My grades were great, but I hated the Political Science major my mother encouraged, and Liam and I had been on the downward spiral for months.

Okay, years.

I held my hand and skimmed the scar on the inside of my wrist with my thumb, trying to remember what the hell made me angrier. Liam cheating on me or me staying long enough for him to do it twice.

She leaned down, resting her elbows on the table and rubbing her eyes.

“For Christ’s sake, do something,” she pleaded. “For the love of all of the pink shit in your closet, make a fucking move!”

I inhaled and exhaled hard out of my nose, shaking my head.

She was right. I knew she was right. She knew she was right. But what I couldn’t figure out as I stood there was how I could be angry and not sad. Pissed but not hurt. What the hell was wrong with me?

I didn’t feel territorial about Liam or ready to go bawl in a stall in the ladies’ room. I wasn’t going to check my phone a zillion times tomorrow to look for apology voicemails or texts. I wasn’t sad.

But I looked over at him and the redhead—it was a redhead last time, too—and I was damn-well angry. I squeezed my fists so hard I felt my nails dig into my palm. I’d been underestimated, forgotten, and disrespected. That pissed me off.

I needed to be like Tate. My best friend back home. We used to be the same. Shy, timid, invisible…but one day she’d had enough, and she started to react instead of letting doubt weigh her down.

I needed to be brave, Strong.

Just do it
, I urged myself.
 
Move your fucking feet, K.C.

But when I hesitated, Nik let out a bitter laugh. “You know?” Her soft, velvety voice could only mean trouble. “Her skirt
 
is
 
super sexy. I’d have my hand up it, too.”

My eyes bugged out, and I slammed my palm down on the table, shooting daggers at my friend.
 
That is it!
 
“You want the girl?” I asked, taunting. “Well, wait here then. I’ll get rid of her boyfriend for you.”

Ignoring the victorious, smug smile spreading across her cherub cheeks, I threw back her untouched shot on the table and swallowed down the burn at the back of my throat from the cheap tequila.

As I cut my way across the dance floor—lit up with the reflection of the blue, green, and red strobe lights overhead—my sparkly, black flats barely touched the floor. I was high on adrenaline.

Screw Liam
, I kept chanting in my head.
 
Screw Liam.
 
I could do this.

I quickly smoothed my hands over my black, layered miniskirt that was tight at the waist but flared out after my hips and then ran my index finger under my bottom lip, clearing up any smeared lip gloss.

Poser pink lip gloss.
 
That’s what Jaxon Trent called my make-up once.
 
Poser.

Another guy who thought I was gutless.

I pushed his words out of my head, sucked in a deep breath, and tapped my fingers against my bare thighs as I charged up to Liam’s table.

Not fifteen minutes later the whole world came to an end.

***

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Nik whispered, wide-eyed, next to me as we sat in my parked Nissan Altima.

“I’m going to throw up,” I choked, gripping the steering wheel and chewing on my bottom lip. “What the hell was I thinking? That was a mistake.”

“No, it wasn’t!” she burst out. “It was epic! It was awesome! You shined, K.C.”

“And now the cops just pulled us over. That’s not awesome, Nik.”

We were sitting next to the curb on a quiet residential street. Some homes were still lit up even though it was nearly eleven. No one, however, came outside to inspect the colorful flashing lights of the cop car behind us.

Officer Baylor—I’d spotted his name tag—had taken my keys, my license, registration and proof of insurance, and was now back in his vehicle doing Lord-knows-what, and all I could think about was how the drop of sweat trailing down my neck was going to ruin my whole outfit. I had to look responsible. If I
looked
 
responsible in my cute, but classy attire and high, stylish ponytail, then I could get out of this.
 
Appearance is everything
, my mother would say.

I knew it was a load of crap, but it was all the hope I had to hold onto right now.

I blew out a long, slow breath and straightened my back. My fingers instinctively went to my mouth, but then I jerked them back down to the steering wheel again, remembering not to bite my nails.

Nik cleared her throat, and I knew she’d been watching me. “Well, perhaps your lucky star is shining tonight,” she suggested.

Lucky star.
 
I rolled my eyes.

I reached over to turn on the AC but stopped when I realized that the cop still had my keys. Damn Arizona summers.

“There’s no such thing. And if there is, my luck has run out,” I grumbled, darting my head around to see if the cop had emerged from his car yet.

“Don’t count your chickens until the fat lady sings,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Before they hatch,” I corrected. “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch.”

“Whatever. Show me your tits.”

“Nik!” I laughed, clamping my hand over my mouth. It would not be a good idea for the cop to see me giggling.

Nik pointed at me and smiled. “Got you to lighten up, didn’t I?” She winked at me. “Don’t worry. You will get through this, because the gods are always on your side, K.C.”

I pursed my lips, trying to hide my smile from the tit comment.
 
Yeah, right.
 
Nik had it in her head that I had the best luck in the world and that she only stayed my roommate so she could benefit from the residual effects.

She was high. On what drug, I didn’t know, but she was out of her mind.

Yeah, it was a little weird freshman year when the answers to a Macro-economics test I was unprepared for showed up in my email inbox.

And it was kind of awesome two weeks later when the sprinklers went off in Finite Math on the same day I happened to be running late for a quiz.

And then last spring when I had to write a report on Oliver Cromwell’s England? The University librarian emailed to let me know that the research texts I’d requested were waiting in reserve for pick-up. That wasn’t weird or awesome. It was unnerving. I’d never requested any texts for research. I had no idea where to begin with that research, actually.

Lots of lucky little things happened like that over the last two years, and I couldn’t explain it.

My mother cut off my credit card when I decided to minor in Creative Writing, and a job at the University bookstore landed in my lap.

I’d failed to study for a Music Appreciation final, because I couldn’t stand the class. My teacher’s test playlist of Baroque composers was replaced with 2 Live Crew’s
 
Me So Horny.

A speeding ticket I couldn’t pay mysteriously disappeared from the DMV database, and one of my professors who had creeped me out with a suggestive email ‘resigned’ after his other emails to other students were leaked. The one to me wasn’t, thank God.

Most of it was great. I never took the test answers…wherever they came from, but I certainly wasn’t going to complain about the rest of it.

I just simply wasn’t going to rely on it, either.

Between that and Nik, I’d had more than a few reasons to smile these past two years, and now I could be thankful that I was no longer the girlfriend of a cheater.

I was grateful for that.

But I was also nervous. The summer was starting, and I was supposed to be moving into an apartment with Liam next week. I was supposed to be planning my study abroad trip to New Zealand for next spring. And I was supposed to be home in bed right now.

Instead, I was in a shitload of trouble on all fronts. I now had no place to live this summer, my college classes were as dry as dirt, and—I twisted my head around again to see that the cop was still working in his car—I was possibly in deep shit with the law now.

I winced, swallowing the lump in my throat.
 
My mother.
 
What the hell was she going to say?

Checking the rearview mirror, I noticed the cop climbing out of his car

“Shit. He’s got a Breathalyzer in his hand.” Nik’s quiet voice crashed into my stomach. “This is all my fault, K.C. I’m so sorry.”