Just With You (Taphouse Blues Series Book 3)

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Other Titles by Heather Lyn

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Just With You

  Copyright © 2020 Heather Lyn

  Editor: Hot Tree Editing

  Proofreading: Virginia Tesi Carey

  Formatting: Jersey Girl Design

  Photographer: CJC Photography

  Model: Stephen Bottoms

  Cover Design: Melissa Gill Designs

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to retailer and purchase.

  OTHER TITLES BY HEATHER LYN

  HEARTS ON FIRE SERIES

  Hearts Ablaze

  Burning Love

  Heart’s Desire

  Unexpected Flames

  THE JACKSON TRILOGY

  Fighting for Us

  TAPHOUSE BLUES SERIES

  Stay With Me

  Don’t Say Goodbye

  For L&C

  Without you, I couldn’t have written this book.

  But more than that, without you I wouldn’t be complete.

  Thank you for showing me what sisterhood really means. And for showing me that no matter what I face in this world, I’ll always have you both by my sides.

  I love you both endlessly. Always.

  Xo

  PROLOGUE

  JACE

  The glide of the cue ball is smooth as it rolls across the pool table, the clink loud as it makes contact with the eight ball before sinking it into the corner pocket.

  “And that’s how it’s done, fellas,” I cheer, tossing the pool cue onto the table and turning to my two best friends. They groan as I hold my palm out for their money.

  “Screw off, Miller, you cheating bastard,” Casey Meyers scoffs, dropping a couple twenties into my hand. He shakes his head, but the smile on his face tells me he isn’t actually angry with me.

  “When will we learn?” Bryan Wheeler digs in his pockets for his share, and I just shrug at him.

  “Hopefully never,” I joke, and Casey reaches out to pull me into a headlock, rubbing his fist against my skull. When I jam my elbow into his stomach, he lets me go, and we all laugh at ourselves.

  The three of us have been best friends since kindergarten. Casey stole my chocolate milk, and I socked him in the nose. We met Bryan outside on the playground when he invited us to play kickball. We’re been inseparable since. The three amigos. Now we’re all seniors at the University of Tennessee, only a couple weeks away from spring break.

  We’ve spent the last week making plans for when we go home, and we’re all anxious to be back. Casey has plans with his longtime girlfriend, and I’m gonna catch a Preds game with Bryan and my younger brother Drew. He’s in his freshman year at the University of Memphis, and I haven’t seen him since Christmas break. It’s gonna be a good week.

  “One more round?” I ask, reaching over to pick up a piece of chalk. Bryan and Casey narrow their eyes at me, but fifteen minutes later, they’re laughing when I accidentally sink the eight ball while aiming for a striped.

  “Finally, Miller. I finally kicked your sorry ass!” Casey cheers, tossing his arm around Bryan, who just finishes his beer with a smirk.

  “I concede to the greatness that is Casey Meyer. All hail the mighty Casey,” I say while I clap my hands, leaning down to bow before him. Bryan is cracking up, and he pretends to curtsy, batting his eyelashes at Casey.

  “Fuck the both of you.” Casey groans, tossing his pool stick onto the table. Bry and I follow suit. “Wanna grab a pizza on the way home?” he asks, reaching for his jacket slung over our booth.

  “Sure,” I say, pulling on my own jacket. “And I’ll pay.”

  “You mean we’ll pay,” Bryan says, pointing between himself and Casey.

  “Exactly.”

  Laughing and shoving each other around, we head out of our favorite bar and toward my old Blazer. Climbing behind the wheel, I crank the engine and pull out of the parking lot. Our favorite pizza dive is only a couple miles away, so it doesn’t take long before we swing into the parking lot. I find a spot and kill the engine.

  We’re here so often that the owner, Jimmy, gives us a wave when we walk in and make our way to our usual booth toward the back. Sliding in, I don’t bother reaching for a menu, knowing we’re gonna order the same thing we usually do. A large Hawaiian with Cokes and a large side of fries. And when our waitress comes over a minute later, that’s exactly what we order.

  “Lucy is wanting to do a group night next week, so what day are you guys free?” Casey asks, taking a sip of his drink.

  “We have the game on Tuesday, but I don’t have anything set in stone the rest of the week,” I tell him, reaching for my own drink.

  “I’m going to be working with my dad on the basement Thursday most of the day, and then Nana is coming over for dinner. But same here. We left our plans somewhat open knowing y’all would want to do something.” Bryan spins his ball cap backward and rests his arms on top of the booth.

  “Okay, I’ll let her know. Some of her girlfriends from Boston are coming with her, and they want to meet you two jackasses.” Casey smirks. “Why, I’ll never know.”

  “Hell yes!” Bryan cheers, and we laugh, Casey tossing a salt packet at him.

  Our antics continue until our food arrives and we dig in, laughter still loud. Something about being with your two best friends the week before spring break of your senior year will do that.

  Life is pretty fucking sweet at the moment, and I’m not sure much could change that.

  Forty minutes later, we pay our bill, and after leaving behind a hefty tip, we head out to my car, waving goodbye to Jimmy. I climb behind the wheel as Bryan and Casey argue for dibs over shotgun before Casey finally gets in next to me, Bryan huffing in the back seat.

  Rifling through my CD case hanging over my visor, I settle on a Red Hot Chili Peppers one and pop it into my stereo. Turning it up, I pull out onto the road to our apartment. I have an early class in the morning followed by a six-hour shift downtown at the mall. Working at the little photo studio pays decent, but usually there aren’t many people who come in.

  But it’s my dream to have my own studio. I want to photograph weddings and families and high school seniors and anything else. It’s my passion.

  We’re about two miles from home whe
n Casey’s cell phone starts chirping from his pocket. I glance over at him and catch his annoyed look when, out of nowhere, we’re hit head-on.

  Glass shatters.

  My head is whipped against my window.

  Metal crunches.

  Through blurry vision, I see the ground and sky tumbling over one another.

  Screams.

  Pain.

  Silence.

  §

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  Slowly I blink my eyes open, and the first thing that registers is pain. Then confusion. Where am I? My vision is fuzzy, but the more I blink, everything begins to come into focus. Sterile white walls. The smell of antiseptic. I’m in a hospital, but why?

  “Jace? Oh, honey, thank God.”

  My mom comes rushing across the room to me, her eyes red and swollen, tissues clutched in her hand. Bending over, she kisses my cheek, and I weakly reach up to pat her back.

  “Mom.”

  “We’ve been so worried.” Dad comes into the room behind her, concern etched into his face.

  “What’s going on?” I croak out, my throat as dry as the Sahara.

  “You don’t remember?” Dad asks as my mom reaches over for the call button attached to my bed. My head is throbbing, and I look down the bed to find my leg done up in a white cast, my right arm in the same state.

  A nurse in hot pink scrubs walks into the room, a cheery smile plastered on her face.

  “Mr. Miller, glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

  “Tired,” I tell her. “My head is killing me. Can I have some water?”

  “Absolutely. The doctor will be in shortly to go over your injuries and treatment. Take small sips at first. We don’t need you upsetting your stomach.” The nurse brings over a small pitcher of water with a plastic cup, setting them down on a small table she wheels over to me. Mom helps me with filling it and hands it over.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, Mom starts to cry, and I set my cup down. “Mom, please don’t cry. I’m okay.”

  “Honey, the accident….”

  “I was in an accident?”

  “We got the call that your car was involved in a head-on collision. Drunk driver fell asleep at the wheel, and your car flipped three times. Driver is in custody.”

  “Well, fuck.”

  “That’s not all. We need to talk, Jace.” Dad comes to sit on the other side of me, and I can see him struggling with his emotions. But he’s unable to continue, because a moment later, my door bangs open and Drew comes running in, his eyes red and glassy.

  “Jace.”

  “Hey, bro,” I begin, but he rushes over and drops down on his knees next to my bed, resting his head next to me on the bed. His shoulders shake with his cries, and Mom reaches over to rub his back.

  “I’m fine, Drew. It’s okay.”

  “Sorry, but I’ve been on the road for hours, and when I got here, they wouldn’t tell me anything. I forgot my cell, so I’ve been in the dark the whole time.” Drew wipes his face with his sleeve and takes a heaving breath. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Jace. You have no idea.”

  “Is my car totaled?” I ask. My brain is still foggy, and I can’t seem to conjure up any memory of what happened.

  “Yes. Sorry, son. But that’s not what we need to talk about,” Dad says, but Mom stops him and leans forward to hold my good hand.

  “Baby, the accident. You weren’t alone.”

  Scrunching my eyes shut, I feel a stab in my stomach, thinking back to what happened earlier in the day. Pool. Bryan and Casey. Coming home for break.

  “Bry…,” I begin, and Mom starts to cry again.

  “Casey didn’t have on his seatbelt and was thrown from the car, Jace. He was dead before they got there. Bryan was in serious condition, and they rushed him into emergency surgery, but he didn’t make it. I’m so sorry, Jace. I am so sorry.”

  “No. You’re wrong.”

  “Jace, she’s not wrong. We’re so sorry. We loved Bryan and Casey like our own,” Dad starts, but I use my good hand to push against Mom, needing her away from me. She tries to calm me down, but even drugged up in a hospital bed, I’m still stronger than her, or maybe she’s just not trying to fight me.

  “Get out. You’re wrong. This is some fucked-up nightmare, and I want you the hell out,” I bite out, my tone laced with anger. Despite that, my eyes burn with tears.

  “Jace—”

  “No! Get out. You’re a fucking liar.”

  “Jace, do not speak to your mother that way. I’m sorry, but you have no right to hurt her,” Dad demands, but I raise my hand and point to the door.

  “Get. The fuck. Out!”

  My head throbs, but I ignore it, fighting like hell not to lose control. My mother is my rock, and I love her like crazy, but right now I can’t have her in here. Even though deep down, I know she’s telling me the truth.

  “We’ll be right outside, Jace. We aren’t leaving you, baby. I love you, and I know how much you’re hurting, but we’re here.”

  Mom backs out of the room with Dad holding her, his eyes filled with tears.

  “Jace? You okay?” Drew asks, having moved into a chair next to me.

  “She pisses me off,” I mumble. My bottom lip trembles, and I bite down to quell the emotion threatening.

  “She’s worried about you, man. We all are.”

  “Well, I’m fine.”

  Drew and I lapse into silence, and the longer it goes on, the more reality begins to hit me.

  My two best friends, dead. And me alive. How is this fair?

  “Drew?”

  “Yeah?”

  Tears begin to silently fall down my cheeks, but I don’t bother hiding them. “Tell me it’s not true. Please, Drew.”

  The bed shifts and my little brother lies down next to me, resting the side of his head against mine. He reaches for my hand and squeezes tight.

  “I’m so fucking sorry, Jace.” His voice is raspy with tears, and my chest hitches.

  Leaning my head down, I break, sobbing against him. He doesn’t say anything, just shoulders my pain, and in that moment, my entire world changes.

  Long after my tears dry up, we sit in silence. My heart aches with the emptiness of my loss.

  “You still got me, Jace,” Drew whispers quietly. “You still have a best friend.”

  “Love you, Drew.”

  My eyelids begin to grow heavy, and even though I know I should get more pain medicine, I feel myself drifting to sleep. I hope for empty dreams, because I know when I wake up, I’ll still be in a nightmare.

  I’ll still be alive.

  They’ll still be dead.

  I’ll still be empty.

  CHAPTER ONE

  JACE

  Fourteen Years Later

  I’m just sitting down behind the wheel of our squad car when the radio crackles to life.

  “10-67 in progress at 24 Garrison.”

  “Roger that. Squad 47 responding.”

  Releasing my radio, I hit the lights and sirens, and we go tearing out of the parking lot. I look over at my partner, Eli Holt. He rolls his eyes, drumming his fingers on the door.

  “What?”

  “Just wish people would stop making dumbass decisions.”

  I toss my head back with a laugh. “Yeah, man. But then we’d be out of a job.”

  “Touché.”

  Carefully maneuvering the car through traffic, I turn onto the road a few minutes later. Eli points out a slate blue house just up ahead.

  “There, number 24. I don’t see anything, do you?”

  “Doesn’t look like it. What the hell?”

  Rolling into the driveway, I throw the car into Park and climb out, my hand resting on top of my gun. The property looks completely silent, and I’m making my way around the side of the property when I hear it—the distinct sound of glass shattering inside. I motion to Eli, who comes around with me, his gun already drawn. Stepping up onto the back porch, I rap my fist on the door.

&nb
sp; “Nashville PD, open up!”

  I bang a few more times, ear pressed to the door, and hear footsteps running around. I look back to Eli, and he nods, so I slam my shoulder into the door, the cheap wood breaking free of the frame and swinging wide open.

  Drawers are open, shit strewn everywhere, and I whip my head to the left only to find some punk running through the house toward the front door.

  “Stop, police!” I shout, taking off after him.

  He runs through the front door and down the lawn. Leaving Eli to secure the property, I take off after him, my legs pumping as hard as I can. He’s coming to a large chained fence, and I get there just as he starts climbing it.

  Reaching up, I grab him by his shirt and haul his ass down to the ground. He fights me, and I don’t hesitate, dropping my knee to his back. Wrenching his arms behind him, I get him cuffed and yank him back up.

  “Fuck you, pig,” he spits out.

  I laugh with a roll of my eyes.

  “Real original, kid.”

  He struggles as I walk him across the street to the squad car, and I just shake my head. He doesn’t look like he’s any more than sixteen, and this doesn’t seem to be his first hint at trouble, if his behavior says anything.

  When I get him back into the driveway, I find Eli coming around back with another kid in cuffs, this one looking much less confident and way more scared.

  “Looks like yours put up a struggle,” he jokes, and I shrug.

  “Nothing I couldn’t handle, Holt.”

  “Let’s get these punks down to the station.” He yanks the back door of the squad car open, and we get them inside.

  An hour later, I’m writing up my report while the teens are being processed. Eli comes walking over to me with a weird look on his face.

  “What’s up, man?”

  “The one I found? Fucking fourteen years old. They’re both in a group home not far from here.”

  “Damn.” Scrubbing a hand over my jaw, I shake my head and toss down my pen. We see just how flawed and broken the system is on a weekly basis.

  “His name is Jacob. He said the older kid forced him to go. They were looking for money to run away with. Peter, the older one, has a record. Not shocking, but he’s been busted twice for breaking and entering, and this is his third placement since 2016. He’s seventeen.”