Beautifully Broken

Beautifully Broken

A Novel

By: Shayne Donovan

42,000 word count

Copyright © 2014 by Shayne Donovan 
All rights reserved. 
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review. 
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. 
Shayne Donovan

Cover art and design done by: Donna Collier / DLC Designs
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Printed in the United States of America 
 

Prologue

              I was dead. My body was lying in the burning rubble that was once my family’s home. I watched as the flames roared and licked their way up the frame of the house, consuming the structure in one giant gulp. The heat was pounding on my skin as I watched, a small smile twisting on my lips. I was free. Free of the memories. Free of the pain. This is the part of the story where I run. The part where self-perseverance fights to the surface. Growing up I had no concept of stability and I craved it like a dying man craved water. Embers floated lazily into the sky, creating an ambiance of twinkling lights against the solid black night. I could hear the sirens in the distance coming to extinguish what was left of my childhood. However I knew they would find nothing. I made sure of that. The raging fire had destroyed everything in its path quickly erasing every secret I had. I was gone.

             
Running had always been my escape. When things went sour I would run. It’s what my mother taught me. She was good at it. I couldn’t remember a time my mother didn’t run. My father was an average grease monkey with a violent temper and an addiction to alcohol. My mother passed on the running where as my father passed on his drinking. I was an in shape alcoholic. Yay me!

             
I sighed. The sirens were getting closer and I was desperately craving a shot of soothing whiskey. I should celebrate my death right? I smiled at that thought and ducked inside the beat up car that I managed to purchase under the table just days ago. No trail was to be left behind. I had to stay dead. As I turned out of the back road and made my way through the tunnel of trees I could see the flashing red lights of the fire trucks turning inside to the house.

             
I wish I could say that my mother was one of those mother’s that loved her daughter. Unfortunately I don’t feel like she was. She was constantly running, running from her family, running from her husband and most of all running from me. She would leave her job as a waitress and my father and I would wake up in the morning to find her gone. She would stay gone until someone finally brought her back. In the first few years of my life it was my grandfather, then it became my father and recent years it was me. In the car on the way back she would apologize. They were always empty I’m sorry’s and false promises. She would say, “Baby I’m sorry…I’m just chasing a dream I’ll never see.” It was almost pathetic.

             
I wish I could conjure up a good child hood memory however I was nothing more than a bitter eighteen year old filed with resentment and terrible memories. I turned left onto the main street and veered towards the highway. My father told me every day of my life that I would amount to nothing. I would be nothing but the daughter of a pregnant by sixteen waitress, and an alcoholic grease monkey. I would never even see the highway. As my tires hit the smooth cement of the highway I smiled. “What’s that again daddy?” I whispered. The lights over the highway passed over, first illuminating the interior of my car and then shrouding me in darkness. It was relaxing and I leaned back into the torn seat as I left my small town and hurtful memories behind me. I reached up and grabbed the flimsy rearview mirror and tugged until it popped off the window. No sense in having one when I certainly didn’t want to look back.

             
When I would run it didn’t matter where I was, it could be the halls of the school that I barely attended. Or perhaps it was the field full of corn down the road. Or it could have been the highway that I was currently traveling north east on. It didn’t matter to me as long as it took me away from the screams and away from the pain. My father was a smart man when it came to the abuse. He would never hit her where it could be seen. My mother was an on again off again waitress that blamed me for the loss of her innocence and the loss of her child hood. I was the blame for everything bad that came within my parents’ lives.

             
Thinking about the past brought up the anger that I so frequently felt. I had no idea where I was headed but I knew I needed to go and get there fast. My mother was a petite, shy and naïve women, which probably explained why she ended up pregnant at just sixteen years old. When I say sixteen I mean two days after her sixteenth birthday. My father was considered a golden boy back in his high school days, captain of football, basketball, wrestling, and baseball teams. He was even just as much of a controlling asshole back then as he was now. Once he discovered my mother’s pregnancy he beat her, when that didn’t get rid of me he made her leave school while he stayed and lived out his glory days obtaining a diploma that would do nothing for him.

             
The nights that my father would take to visiting his dear friends’ tequila and vodka were the nights that I would run the most. I would run and hide, protecting myself from the inevitable beating that was to follow. I sighed and shook my head trying to rid myself of the constant nagging reminders as I turned east to head for the Texan border. Perhaps I would find happiness somewhere along the highway. Perhaps the memories would finally leave me. I squeezed the worn steering wheel until my knuckles were white. I wasn’t sure where I was headed. All I knew is when the money ran out that’s where I would stay. Everything about my past was gone while everything about my future was unknown. I would make a new future.

Welcome to Oliver Georgia. The sign was barely holding it together as my beat up car chugged across the town line. I don’t even want to repeat what the population said. I groaned as I pulled over into an empty parking lot and the car died just as I shifted into park. I knew this was a hunk of junk when I bought it for three hundred dollars. I suppose I couldn’t complain too much, it had done its job and gotten me far away from Texas, not as far as I would have liked but far enough. My dreams of a white Christmas would have to wait. I climbed out
of the car, stretching my tired and sore limbs. “Welcome home.” I whispered, looking around the small town. It would do.

Chapter One

1 year later….

              “Hey Dolly!” I called out with a smile as I made my way in the diner before work for my usual cup of coffee. Dolly lived up to her name with a huge puff of white blonde hair and hot pink lipstick. She smiled at me, picked up the pot of coffee and headed my way as I adjusted my coveralls around my waist. “So what’s all the excitement for today?” I asked as she poured me a fresh cup. There had been welcome home signs hanging in store fronts and a huge banner that stretched from telephone pole to telephone pole. “Oh that! Yeah our own little town prince is coming home today! It’s exciting news!” She squealed with her southern twang. I took the creamer from the counter and shook my head. “Oh really? I’ve been here a year now and I never heard of any prince.” I chuckled, stirring my coffee until it was a creamy brown color. “He was away in Africa for a mission trip of sorts.” The bell chimed and Dolly scurried away to take care of her next customer. Mason Brady made his way up to the counter and plopped down next to me. “Morning.” He grumbled. Mason and I were familiar with each other to say the least. He ran the liquor store at the edge of town and I was a frequent visitor. He was sweet and dopey in his own way, reminding me more of a little brother type. His eyes were puffy and tired which probably meant he just got home from work. “Long night at the office?” I joked as I stirred my cup. “You can say that. I hear Cole is coming home today. I bet Emma Jo is just going to be over the moon with that revelation. I’m sure she will bunny hop her way all the way back here.” I didn’t miss the jealousy laced in his voice. Emma Jo and I didn’t exactly see eye to eye. She was high class, sassy and full of piss and vinegar. I knew without a doubt that Mason Brady was over the moon for her though. I shook my head and let him sulk on his own. I wasn’t in the mood to hash out matters of the heart.

             
I sipped my sweet coffee as I waited for my day to start. When I’d broken down here a year ago I had no intentions of actually staying. However this sleepy little town grows on you. They were looking for a mechanic and I was looking for some under the table cash. When I went in Harry looked at me like I had grown three heads. I didn’t look like your average run of the mill grease monkey, but thanks to dear old dad I knew more about cars and how they work then I probably should have. Thankfully I got my mother’s good looks in the Russian roulette of DNA. I looked like her with my long brown almost black hair that ran down my back in thick waves, her small nose, full lips and slightly rounded cheeks. I also got lucky getting her trim and fit petite frame. My eyes however were my father’s, storm gray, and I hated looking in them every day. I polished off my cup of coffee and stood up, leaving Dolly a generous tip and slapping Mason hard on the back. If it hadn’t of been for Dolly, I would have been sleeping in my car for that first year.

             
That morning of my break down Dolly had stumbled upon me sitting on the hood of my car, drinking a bottle of vodka. I remember how she looked at me with her hip jutted out and her brightly painted yellow nails planted firmly on said hip. “Darlin’ what are you doin’ drinking this early in the morning.” I remember laughing hysterically at her southern accent. After that she set me up in the small apartment above her barn free of charge until I got on my feet. Thankfully that barn was mostly just empty space minus the angry cat that she named Buttercup and a handful of knick knacks that she stored inside. A week later I showed Harry that I could take apart, clean and put the engine of a beat up Mustang back together with no issues, effectively gaining me both employment and a new set of wheels. I’d come to realize that this little town was a lot nicer than I gave it credit for. “Bye Dolly!” I called out, “Mason, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.” I laughed as I made my way to the door of the diner. When I had first arrived here, Mason had asked me to dinner. The poor guy didn’t even have a chance to finish his stuttering sentence before I started laughing at him and effectively shooting down his ego. I made up for it by buying him some pie and coffee one day after work. I didn’t let myself get too acquainted though, friendships were not something I had the luxury of.

             
As soon as I plowed out the door I ran smack into a firm chest and broad shoulders. “What the hell!” I yelled as I fell backwards. My hair spilled into my face as the dirt and dust covered my dark blue coveralls and white tank top. “I’m sorry miss, I didn’t see you there.” A deep voice apologized. I pushed my hair out of my face and instantly my breath caught. The man standing before me was certainly not someone I had seen in my year of being here. Instantly my sarcasm took over. “What do you mean you didn’t see me, its broad fucking day light?” I growled as I stood up, ignoring his outstretched hand and dusting myself off. “I apologize miss.” He started again. This time I stood up and studied him. He was taller than me which didn’t amount to much with me being a whopping five foot six. He had dirty blonde hair that was shaggy and fell over bright blue eyes. He had a strong jaw, covered in lightly colored stubble and wide shoulders that I wouldn’t mind raking my nails over. He looked me up and down as I did him and I couldn’t help but wonder what he saw. I knew I was okay looking, like I said I definitely lucked out. My bear arms were covered in sleeves of colorful tattoos, my act of rebellion at sixteen and I wondered if he seen what everyone else did when they looked at them. His eyes returned to my glare and he smiled. An actual sincere smile as he stuck his hand out again. “Really, I am sorry for practically running you down. I’ve must have forgotten how it is to have so many people around while I was out in Africa. My names Cole Bradley.” I hesitated before shaking his hand. “The golden prince has returned to his throne huh.” I chuckled and noticed his cheeks turned pink. I winked and pointed to them, “That’s a good color for you. Now if you excuse me I have to go open the garage and get to work. It was nice meeting you Prince Cole.” I called as I walked past him and towards the garage. “I don’t even get a name?” He called out smiling widely. I laughed and waved but still did not give him my name. A guy like that could do too much damage.

             
Attachments aren’t something I can afford. Not in this town, not anywhere. Any day now the police could figure out what I’m hiding and I would have to leave. I came close to bonding with Dolly but thankfully I have been able to hold her at an arm’s length…just barely. I sighed as I unlocked the garage and pushed open the door. It was the typical small town garage, the outside white brick with a dark blue trimmed sign over the two large garage doors. The few windows held signs of running specials and product prices and advertisements. Inside the smell of burnt coffee, oil and grease greeted me as it usually does. I turned around and locked the door to the office back up since we aren’t due to open for another half an hour. The office was simple and that’s the way Susan liked it. A small circular counter greeted you as you walked in and to the right grey fabric chairs stood by waiting. There were a couple little tables filled with magazines to feed anyone’s fancy and even a table full of coloring books and crayons. The front of the desk was covered in sloppily colored pictures that children had done throughout the year. I usually like to come in a little early to get set up before business starts picking up. Being the only shop in town we specialize in just about anything with a motor. Which thankfully for me I’m a quick learner.