What Happens Tomorrow
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Authors: Elle Michaels
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What Happens Tomorrow
Copyright © 2014 by Elle Michaels
Editing by Jennifer Roberts-Hall of Indie After Hours
Formatting by JT Formatting
Cover Design by Bookfabulous Designs
All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, bands, and/or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
License Notes
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Table of Contents
FLASHING BRIGHT LIGHTS interrupted by darkened shadows are all I can see as I fight to open my eyes.
Where am I?
I’m cold. So incredibly cold. I try to pull my legs in close to my chest, but it’s no use. I don’t have the strength. My body quakes as freezing tremors consume me.
I hear what sounds like the muffled murmur of voices and I try to concentrate, but it’s no use.
Help me! Please! Someone help me!
But no sound leaves my lips.
What happened to me?
“Ma’am…ma’am…can you hear me?” I feel my shoulders shake as I hear the rushed sound of a woman’s voice. “Ma'am, if you can hear me open your eyes.” I fight, desperately trying to open my eyes, terrified that if I don’t she’ll give up on me and leave me…alone.
Scared.
“Wh-wh-ere a-am-m I?” It hurts to speak.
“Ma’am, can you tell me your name?” I feel like I’m floating up towards the clouds as she questions me. “On my count… one…two…three.”
“B-B-Broo-ooke,” I respond as the floating sensation ceases.
It’s at that moment the flashing lights of a fire truck catch my attention. I open my eyes wider to see the mangled aftermath across from me. Next to it, two maroon blankets lay close to the pile of twisted, smoking metal. Then I see it. Sticking out from under the blanket…
A brown curl.
No!
I feel the warmth of my tears as they flow down my frozen cheeks. Bile rises up my throat as the realization hits me like a brick wall.
“Nooooooooo!” I scream before the sound quiets and my sight goes dark.
Four Years Later
IT’S A GLORIOUS spring evening in Santa Monica as Tyler and I walk along a crowded sidewalk on a busy Friday night after picking up Japanese take-out.
I still find it hard to believe that I actually live here, but I’d really done it. I’d packed up and left my former life behind. I left my home. Left the memories. I left it all behind after deciding the time had finally come for me to move on with my life.
Never looking back.
That was a little over a year ago.
I knew the time was right. Don’t ask me how…I just did. I felt it deep in my soul. It was absolutely terrifying moving to a strange city in a strange state and not knowing a single person. To say it was nerve wracking would be an understatement. But I was right…
It was exactly what I’d needed. A fresh start.
I moved into a tiny two bedroom apartment I’d rented after viewing it on the internet. It had looked really nice from the photos I saw posted on the web, and they accepted pets which was my number one prerequisite. There was no way my dog, Charlie would be left behind. The complex was quaint and reminded me of
Melrose Place
with its lush greenery and palm trees surrounding the swimming pool in the center of the courtyard, and the rent was reasonable—another bonus.
The decision to move was made.
I’d closed myself off from everyone and anyone for the past number of years, retreating into myself because it was easier that way. But I’ve actually made a few friends since I moved to California.
Jenna Miller is my spunky little next door neighbor, originally from the Midwest. We met outside by the pool one day and hit it off almost immediately. We started talking and realized that neither of us had any family close by so we decided to look out for each other, like surrogate sisters.
Well, it’s more like Jenna looks out for me.
Every once in a while you meet someone you feel like you’ve known your entire life, and that’s how I feel about Jenna. I’d forgotten how it felt to have a close girlfriend. Someone to confide in. To cheer you up when you’re feeling down and kick your ass when you need it. She is exactly the kind of person I need in my life, but there’s one small problem with our relationship…
She has no idea about my past.
No one in Santa Monica does.
When I moved, there were no more whispers behind my back or looks of pity. Here, I’m just single, thirty-two year old Brooke Adams. A woman who wanted to move to Southern California and live in the sunshine.
I haven’t worked since that night. I was barely able to keep myself alive let alone go to work. People here assume I work from home for an internet based computer business—I might have led a few people to believe that after being put on the spot at a neighbor’s party. It was the first thing that popped into my head so I went with it. Although, now I’m usually the person everyone comes to if they’re having computer issues. My background as an IT technician definitely came in handy.
Then there’s Tyler Reynolds. Tyler lives across the courtyard from me on the upper level. I’ve never had any close male friends before. Well, no one other than Matt. But Tyler’s become a really good friend. One of my best friends actually. It’s great to have a man around to help with the so-called “manly” jobs because I’ll admit that I’m useless when it comes to fixing leaky kitchen sinks and the like.
My dad is too far away for me to call for help or advice, and to be honest, I don’t want him to worry that I won’t be able to handle being on my own. My parents have had more than enough stress on their plates when it comes to me and my life. If I don’t have to give them a reason to worry I won’t.
Tyler looks out for me. Makes me feel safe. He’s a really good friend, and I can’t imagine the last year of my life without him or Jenna.
I met Tyler a couple of weeks after I moved into the complex while I was carrying a scalding-hot cup of coffee…
