**Mature Content Warning**
This is a
New Adult novel recommended for ages 17+ due to language, sexual content, and
mature subject matter.
This e-book is on sale for a temporary time at just .99! Links at the bottom of the post!!
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Determined to overcome a dark and
tragic past, college student Everly Wallace is only months away from earning
her degree in physical therapy. She’s consumed with school, caring for her
ailing grandfather, and figuring out how to pay the next bill. The last thing
she wants is a relationship, but it just might be the one thing she needs.
Major League pitcher Cole Parker
hasn’t fought for anything in his life. He went from a privileged upbringing to
a multimillion dollar All-Star career. But when his pitching shoulder starts to
give him trouble at only twenty-four years old, he faces the possibility of his
injury becoming public knowledge and costing him everything.
In a desperate bid to save his
career, Cole decides to hire someone to treat his injury, someone who will keep
things off the record and out of the media. He finds the perfect solution in
Everly. As mysterious as she is beautiful, she provides an enticing distraction
from his pain. Soon, physical therapy is the last thing on his mind.
When an act of betrayal brings the
truths they both fear to light, Cole will have to fight for the first time in
his life…not just for his career, but for Everly’s love.
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Chapter One
Cole knew when he hit the first curb that he’d had too
much to drink. He cursed as he jerked the wheel to bring the car back into the
correct lane, nearly swiping a garbage can on the dark residential street. Pain
shot through his shoulder as he righted the wheel, generating a more vicious
curse.
You dumbass! The thought penetrated the haze
coating his mind. Don’t ding the Maserati.
Focusing intently and clutching the wheel until his
knuckles went numb, he registered he was less than a mile from home. He wanted
to get there before he ended up with a DUI. Management would likely bench him
for half the coming season if he screwed up like that.
His marinating brain decided this meant he should go
faster. Get home quick before getting caught. He picked up speed, weaving along
the back streets leading to his house. Thank God the downtown Atlanta nightclub
was less than five miles from home.
Just as his driveway came into sight, the glaring lights
of an oncoming car pierced his windshield. He slammed on the brakes and swerved
to avoid the collision. The Maserati hit a patch of ice. The world spun as the
other car passed without impact.
The last thing Cole registered was the large bulk of a
magnolia tree speeding toward him and the fleeting thought that his beloved car
was about to get much more than a ding.
A persistent beeping sound brought him back around. He
slowly opened his eyes. A speckled ceiling came into focus.
One of the beeping
sounds increased as he registered his surroundings. Sunlight filled the
spacious hospital room.
“Cole? Cole, honey?”
He glanced over at the sound of his mother’s voice. She
sat on his left side holding his hand. The moment he looked at her, she gave it
a tight squeeze.
“Can you hear me, honey?” she asked. The tears in her
brown eyes tugged at Cole’s conscience.
Before he could answer, his dad’s rumbling southern drawl
filled the room. “‘Course he can hear you, Brenda. He only has a concussion,
for heaven’s sake.” He moved closer to the bed, towering over his wife. He put
a reassuring hand on her shoulder and caught Cole’s gaze. “Crash sure didn’t
help his god-awful looks, though.”
“Rick!” his mom gasped.
Cole found himself comforted by the normal banter. He
hadn’t yet looked down at his body, afraid of what he might see.
Lifting a corner of his mouth, he said, “Yeah, Ol’ Man.
You’re scarring my sensitive psyche here.”
His dad guffawed at that. “Well, at least she didn’t call
me Richard Dale Parker. Then I’d know I was in real trouble.”
“You two,” his mom censured, shaking her head. Her bob of
sable-colored hair waved around her pretty face. She focused on Cole. “How are
you feeling, honey? Do you remember what happened?”
“I remember,” he replied, adding a private sort of. “And I
feel fine, actually.”
The answer surprised him. It had been a while since he
last remembered being pain-free. For a terrifying moment, he feared he was
paralyzed. But he moved his fingers and toes and felt the blanket and sheets against his skin. Lifting his arms, he
tested for injury.
A movement just outside his room’s door caught his eye. He
spotted his brother Wyatt talking with someone wearing a lab coat. Though he
tried, he couldn’t read Wyatt’s expression since he was mostly turned away from
him.
“We told Avery not to worry about making the trip out
here,” his mother said. “The doctor assured us it wasn’t serious, and I didn’t
want her to have to worry about Sam.”
“Of course,” Cole agreed, grateful his older sister wasn’t
hauling his five-year-old nephew across town at the crack of dawn. “I’ll call
her later. No need for all of the fuss.”
“You’re one lucky son of a buck,” his father said, the
words drowning out the machines in the room. “If you’d been going even a little
faster…”
The guilt resurged. Cole prayed that wasn’t moisture he
saw in his father’s gaze. His dad never cried.
Wyatt saved him from responding when he entered the room.
After looking between each of them and quickly assessing the situation, he
said, “Mom, Dad, why don’t you have a word with Dr. Rosen about Cole’s
aftercare? Then grab a cup of coffee and a muffin or something. Put it on my
account.”
As a cardiologist on staff at the hospital, Wyatt would
make sure their parents were taken care of, Cole knew. They nodded and Brenda
bent down to kiss Cole’s forehead.
“You’re my baby, you know,” she murmured. “You’re not
allowed to scare me like that.”
He winced. “Sorry, Mom.”
She ruffled his hair and let his dad lead her from the
room. Wyatt closed the door behind them.
Seeing Wyatt’s expression when he turned back from the
door, Cole groaned. “Don’t start with me.”
“Don’t start with you? That’s asking an awful lot when
you’ve been a complete dumbass.”
Cole glowered at Wyatt as he settled into the chair their
mother had abandoned. It was the only chair in the room and sported a tilted
round seat and an off-center, triangle-shaped back. Somehow, Wyatt managed to
sit in it without his long legs ending up in his ears.
“What the hell is that thing?” Cole wondered.
“Our hospital’s failed attempt at becoming more ‘hip and
trendy,’” Wyatt responded. “Don’t try and deflect from the fact that you ended
up here with a concussion and bruised face because you were driving under the
influence.”
“What about my face?” Reaching up, Cole gently prodded his
cheeks. He didn’t feel anything unusual.
“The airbag nearly broke your nose,” Wyatt explained, his
sandy brows drawing together. “You likely lost your grip on the steering wheel
before impact or you’d probably be suffering from a broken arm or two, as
well.”
Cole considered that. “I don’t feel bruised.”
“You don’t feel much of anything. You were given a hefty
dose of Codeine shortly before you woke up. Mom was carrying on about how much
pain you’d be in, so Dr. Rosen allowed it.”
“Remind me to kiss the doc on my way out.”
“Cole, get serious for a minute,” Wyatt said sharply.
“I’ve managed to keep your intoxication out of the official records.
Fortunately for you, the guy who made you swerve into that tree was
conscientious enough to see if you were all right, and he happens to be a fan
of yours. He kept rambling on to anyone who would listen that it was all his
fault. Between that and you being my brother, no one tested your blood alcohol
level.”
“Then why do you think I was—?”
“Don’t even go there, Cole. You reeked of alcohol. You
still do.”
Raising his left arm, Cole gave himself a sniff test. Then
he shrugged.
Wyatt pushed up from the chair and leaned over the bed.
Cole knew his brother nearly matched his own six-foot, three-inch height, and
his hovering position had a dominating effect.
His voice was much quieter when he said, “Cole, for God’s
sake, you could have killed yourself. You could have killed someone else—a kid.
What the hell were you thinking?”
The combination of Wyatt’s posture and tone made another
dent in Cole’s conscience. He’d always sought his older brother’s pride, and he
knew now that he had disappointed him.
“I’m sorry, Wy.”
Whatever Wyatt read in his expression must have convinced
him he was sincere. Sighing, Wyatt returned to the chair-like contraption.
“What’s going on, Cole? You don’t normally drink yourself
stupid when you go out with your friends.”
Cole considered blowing his brother off. He could easily
say it had been a one-time slip and it wouldn’t happen again, blah, blah, blah.
Then he’d go back to living his life.
But he had to tell someone.
Rubbing a hand down his face, he asked, “Can I talk to you
under the doctor-patient privilege rather than brother to brother?”
“Cole…”
“Wyatt, this is important, okay?”
After a pause, Wyatt nodded.
Cole took a deep breath. “Okay. The truth is, I think I’ve
blown out my pitching shoulder. I’ve been drinking and taking pills to relieve
the pain.”
The quickly-issued confession didn’t make Cole feel any
better. If anything, it made his non-physical pain that much keener. Still, it
did help a little to share his burden. He was facing the possibility that his
pitching career was over at the age of twenty-four. It had seemed more than he
could bear before this moment. Now, he had hope.
He had Wyatt.
“When do you think the injury occurred?” Wyatt asked at
last.
Grateful for his brother’s unshakable calm, Cole replied,
“I experienced twinges several times last season when I pitched. It got worse
in October. Once the season ended, I tried to work it out, but it’s been a few
weeks and the pain isn’t going away. It’s getting worse.”
“Have you spoken to your team doctors or—?”
“Wy, if I tell anyone I’m having issues in my throwing
arm, it’ll be all over the news. My contract comes up for renewal at the end of
this coming season. I have to be in prime condition…no rumors
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About the author
Raine Thomas is the award-winning author of
bestselling Young Adult and New Adult fiction. Known for
character-driven stories that inspire the imagination, Raine recently
signed with multiple award-winning producer Chase Chenowith of Back
Fence Productions to bring her popular Daughters of Saraqael trilogy to
the big screen. She's a proud indie author who is living the dream.
Raine
is a hopeless romantic with a background in the fields of mental health
and wedding planning...two areas that intersect far more than one would
think. Her years working with children and young adults with emotional
and behavioral challenges inspired her to create protagonists who
overcome their own conflicts. When she isn't writing or glued to e-mail
or social networking sites, Raine can usually be found vacationing with
her husband and daughter on one of Florida's beautiful beaches or
crossing the border to visit with her Canadian friends and relatives.
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Buy this book here:
Into the pits of madness...
