Anna_The Ever After Series Book 2 Read online

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  Anna

  The Ever After Series

  Book Two

  Written by Stella James

  Copyright © 2018 Stella James

  All rights reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

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

  Anna

  The Ever After Series

  Book Two

  By Stella James

  For my girls.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Prologue

  It’s never quiet here.

  I stare down at the book in my hands and try to focus on the words, but I can’t. I wish I could go home, but I’m not stupid. I know that I can’t. I don’t have a home anymore. I look out the window and stare at the clouds, it looks like it’s going to rain again. I set my book down and look around the rec room. Nobody ever talks to me. I don’t know why. I guess I don’t really talk to them either. I know I’m not supposed to hate it here, but I do. Joan, my case worker, told me that this is one of the nicest group homes in the city and that I’m lucky they had a spot for me until she can find me a foster family. The grown-ups here are nice and the food is okay. But nothing here is mine except for the stuff in my suitcase. I guess I shouldn’t complain, this place is better than the hospital. I look up toward the doorway just as a woman walks in, holding a tray full of chocolate chip cookies. She sets the tray on one of the tables and everyone runs over to take one. I stay in my chair and watch. She looks over at me and smiles.

  I wish I could go home.

  Chapter 1

  Anna

  That’s it. I’m going to go over there and tell him to shut it down. This is crazy. Who has a party on a Monday night? Dumb question Anna, this guy clearly doesn’t discriminate when it comes to having company. Loud company. For two weeks, I have been enduring the thumping of music and the herd of people who apparently share my new neighbour’s disregard for peace and quiet. This has been an ongoing annoyance several nights a week since he moved in. I’m beyond exhausted and knowing that tomorrow morning I’ll be faced with seventeen five year olds who will yet again show no mercy to my sleep deprivation, is the last straw.

  I flip the covers back and glance at the clock. It’s just past midnight, a perfectly reasonable time for me to request he shut it down for the night. Really, he’s lucky that it’s just me he has to deal with. If Mrs. Mercer was still in 2B she would have called the cops on him by now. I pull on a pair of soft grey yoga pants and a loose fitting black hoodie over top of my plain cotton nightgown to hide the fact that I’m not wearing a bra. Not that anyone would notice with my less than impressive cup size, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. I pull my long auburn hair into a messy knot as I make my way through the living room. I open my door and cross the hallway to the only other occupied apartment on my floor. I take a deep breath and straighten my spine before knocking firmly.

  I’ve only caught a passing glance of the guy that moved in and I don’t even know his name. Hopefully he’s genuinely clueless to his behaviour and not a complete jerk. I knock again, harder. This is pointless, there’s no way anyone can hear me above the music. One more knock and then I’m going to have to just open the door and let myself in. I raise both my fists and reel my arms back, connecting briefly with the door as it swings open and I fall into a hard, broad chest.

  “Woah, easy there,” he says, his deep voice vibrating against my ear as I remain momentarily plastered to his body.

  I push myself from him and stumble back slightly as I stand on my own feet and bring my gaze up the length of his body. I’m eventually met with a playful smirk and a pair of cobalt eyes dancing with humour. Obviously at my expense. I crane my neck back as my eyes continue to wander over his thick, short, dirty blond hair and the light dusting of matching stubble along his defined jaw, when I suddenly remember why I’m here.

  “Hi, I’m Anna. I live across the hall,” I explain. “I really don’t want to be a pain, but could you please turn down your music and maybe call it a night?”

  He begins down at my bare feet and trails his eyes over my hips, briefly pausing at the concealed outline of my chest before meeting my expectant stare. I’m anticipating an acknowledgement or perhaps even an apology. Words of some kind, at the very least. What I am not expecting is his door to slowly close in my face without so much as a hint of human decency. What the hell? I raise my hand to knock again before chickening out. Picking my jaw up off the floor, I stomp back to my apartment, closing my own door as hard as I can before flipping the lock. I head straight for the kitchen and dig through my junk drawer until I find a pad of paper and a pen. I jot down a quick note for myself.

  Seriously inquire murder for hire. Cost? Craigslist?

  I stick the yellow note to the coffee maker and head back to bed. I grab my iPod and earbuds from the nightstand and pray that The Lumineers can lull me to sleep while I ponder the likelihood of being able to hire an assassin on a teacher’s salary.

  *

  I stifle yet another yawn as I sit at my desk and refill several small plastic shakers with various colours of glitter. My students have all gone home, as well as my assistant Melinda. The classroom is pleasantly silent as I continue the tedious yet calming task of topping up the craft supplies. After my one and only unsuccessful attempt at conversing with my primate of a neighbour, I tossed and turned until the noise finally ended, and I was able to get four solid hours of sleep before I had to get up and ready for school. That was a week ago. I thought about calling one of my sisters and camping out with them, but they’d want to interfere and handle the situation for me. I love them and I appreciate their concern, but we aren’t kids anymore and I need to handle this ape on my own. My phone buzzes just as I set the final shaker back in the box.

  Melinda: My cousin Lou says he’ll kill your neighbour for two hundred dollars and a carton of Marlboros. Personally,I’d decline since he’s unreliable, but I thought you’d want to know in case you get desperate

  I smile as I type my response.

  Me: Aw, tell Lou I said thank you but I’d hate to see him get in trouble while he’s out on parole.

  Melinda: Good call. See you tomorrow. My couch is free if you need it xo

  I slip my phone into my bag and pack away the last of the supplies
littered across my desk. I glance around the room as I pull on my jacket and feel a sense of pride. I always knew that I wanted to be a teacher. When I was a kid I would force my younger brother to play ‘school’ with me for hours on end. The memory flashes across my mind and like it always is, it’s tinged with sadness. I pick up my bag and sling it over my shoulder before I flip the lights off and head for the front door. I only live a couple blocks away from the school and parking is always a nightmare in this part of the city, so I usually walk to and from work.

  The beginning stages of spring offer me a pleasantly warm breeze as I approach the edge of the city centre park. I reach into my bag for the Styrofoam container holding the leftovers from today’s hot lunch. It isn’t much, but two slices of pepperoni pizza are better than nothing. I spot Jack sitting on his usual bench and when he glances up at me, I return his smile and head toward him. He’s wearing his usual thread bare, long sleeved flannel shirt and faded jeans, his guitar case by his side as it always is along with a small duffel bag. His shaggy salt and pepper coloured hair is pulled back in a low ponytail and his beard looks freshly trimmed. He must have gotten a spot at one of the shelters last night.

  “Hi Jack, how are you today?”

  “Can’t complain Miss. B, and yourself?”

  His eyes flicker briefly to the container in my hand but I know he won’t ask for it. Jack might be homeless, but he’s got more pride and dignity than any man I’ve ever met. I’ve been walking past him every day on my way home for the last six months and he’s never asked me for anything.

  “I’m good, thanks. I brought you some leftover pizza,” I add, holding the container out for him to take. “It’s pepperoni, not a big seller with five year olds apparently.”

  “My favourite,” he approves, opening the lid and inhaling.

  “That worked out well,” I say, sitting down beside him. “See anything worth mentioning today?”

  “Just the usual,” he replies, removing one slice of pizza and tucking the other away for later. “Busy people, busy lives and a whole lotta traffic.”

  We continue to chat casually as he eats. Before I leave, I phone two of the nearest shelters to see if they have room tonight, it’ll save him the task of hauling his things there in person for nothing if they are full. Which they are.

  “I’m sorry Jack, do you want me to try St. Mary’s on fifth?”

  “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for Miss B, you’ve been the highlight of my day,” he says. “I’ll be just fine tonight, don’t you worry.”

  I don’t press the matter because I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. We say our goodbyes and before I rise from the bench, I place the twenty dollar bill that I had hidden in my palm between the slates of metal beside me, folding it across the top so it doesn’t slip out.

  I continue on and turn off down the sidewalk, away from the busy street and into a more suburban area. Well, as suburban as you can get in the middle of a city I suppose. I lucked out when I found my apartment during college, not only is it central in location but the building is fairly new. Between my parent’s life insurance policy and my foster mother’s ingrained advice on how to live frugally, I’ve thankfully been able to afford it on my teacher’s salary.

  I love my building. It’s not as large as most of the surrounding complexes and has only two floors with a total of five suites. As opposed to the typically generic housing you’d find in a crowded city, the building is more like a wide brownstone. Quaint with a touch of class, a single entranceway leads into a tidy foyer. A section of brushed gold mailboxes line up along a portion of the right wall and in the far back centre of the massive space is a large stair case with dark cherry steps and an intricately carved thick bannister of the same colour.

  I climb the last step to the second floor with visions of a hot bath and a good book in my near future when my thoughts are interrupted by a loud thud followed by a growl of a curse. I hesitate at my door and dig deep for even the slightest dose of courage before I turn around and confidently step toward his door instead. I knock crisply and maintain my posture as I wait. Fake it til you make it Anna. You don’t really want to resort to murder.

  “Yeah?”

  I shake my head and look up at the same blue eyes I saw last week only now they aren’t filled with humour, they’re filled with annoyance.

  “Hi, me again,” I say, smoothing down my pale pink cardigan and my yellow dress beneath it. I look my adversary in the eye and use my best no-nonsense tone. “I wanted to let you know that if you don’t start shutting down your gatherings by eleven p.m. I am going to have to call the cops and issue a noise complaint. I’d rather not but you’ve left me little choice in the matter.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Ye-yes. It is,” I stammer. “It’s a completely reasonable request.”

  He crosses his arms in front of his chest, leaning casually against the doorframe as he continues to watch me. If he weren’t such a thorn in my side, I might be inclined to notice that he has very nice, very muscular arms. If, being the operative word.

  “Annie, is it?”

  “Anna.”

  “Right. So, I have a request of my own,” he proposes, grinning.

  “Ohhkay, I’m not sure how we’ve gotten there, but I’ll bite I guess,” I say reluctantly. I mimic his stance and cross my arms over my chest.

  “Why don’t you come over tonight? Maybe take that stick out of your ass and have some fun,” he offers. “Plenty of single guys for you to choose from, maybe get some of that pent-up energy taken care of.”

  “Hey, I don-.”

  “Just a suggestion freckles,” he interrupts. “The invitation doesn’t expire.”

  I find myself yet again, standing in front of a closed door. Speechless. Hours later, I don’t follow through with my threat which I’m sure he knew I wouldn’t. I don’t bother calling my sister Dru before I head out the door with an overnight bag and the resolve that I need to form a new and improved plan of attack.

  *

  By the time Thursday comes, I’m so cranky I can hardly stand myself. But I’m committed. Obviously Sebastian Miller, which is apparently this Neanderthal’s name, according to the discarded power bill I found on the floor of the foyer yesterday, doesn’t appreciate honest confrontation. Or the fact that some people have actual jobs. I need to approach him differently and I think I’ve got somewhere to start.

  Cinnamon rolls.

  Everyone loves homemade baking. Everyone. I’m going to whip some up and pray that bribery and guilt are a language my new neighbour understands. My foster mother Esme gave me the recipe for this particular dish of bribery which means it will of course be amazing. There is no way that Esme Dixon would stamp her name on a recipe if it were simply adequate.

  I push open the front door and step into the foyer, pausing to readjust the heavy grocery bags in my arms as I make my way to the stairs. Out of habit, to not disturb anyone, I lighten my steps just slightly as I enter the hallway and set my bags down in front of my door while I search in my purse for my keys. I hear the door behind me creak open and expect to see Sebastian standing there when I slowly turn. Instead, I see a tall blonde wearing a tight red dress, carrying a pair of matching heels in her hand. She doesn’t say anything, but her smirk speaks volumes. She’s obviously marking her territory. I offer a genuine smile regardless and can tell that I’ve instantly made her uncomfortable as she walks by.

  “Good morning,” I say happily.

  She smiles tightly and continues on without giving me a second glance. Kindness always makes people stop and think. I replay the words Esme used to tell me when I was in high school and dealing with a never-ending parade of mean girls. She always used to tell me to fight with kindness.

  I push open my door and haul my bags inside, setting everything on the kitchen counter. I place my iPod on the dock station and swipe at the small screen until I get to Janet Jackson’s greatest hits. Rhythm Nation drifts from the small speaker as
I gather the rest of my supplies and sing along.

  Less than two hours later, I’m pulling a tray of thick, syrupy cinnamon rolls from the oven. My entire apartment smells delicious and I am certain that Sebastian and I are about to take a step in the right direction toward an understanding. I set the tray on a wire rack to cool and duck into my bedroom to swap my flour stained T-shirt for something clean. I’m not even sure if he’s home or awake but I want to get these treats delivered so that I can get on with the rest of my day. Thursday’s are the only day during the week that I don’t have class and I like to take the free time to make up my lesson plans for the following week. Also…I have a date tonight.

  I head back into the kitchen and transfer the cinnamon rolls onto a heavy glass plate and wrap them loosely with foil. I tape the power bill, along with a quick note to the top just in case he doesn’t answer, so he’ll know who they’re from. My phone buzzes and I glance down at the screen and smile. I set the plate back down on the counter and read the message from my sister.

  Dru: Girls night is officially on for Saturday. Wear something sexy and meet me at my place, we’ll share a cab.

  Me: And by sexy you mean…?

  She replies immediately.

  Dru: I love you Anna, but if you show up wearing that yellow dress I am going to pry it from your body and you’ll go naked.

  Me: Surely you don’t mean that.

  Dru: Naked, Anna. Your choice XO.

  I reassure my sister that my unsexy yellow dress will remain in my closet. I’m excited to finally have a girls’ night with my sisters. We used to go out together often but when Elle got married, she gradually started bailing and it became more of a date night for Dru and I. Not that I’m not happy to spend time just with Dru, her and I have always been close. But I miss the three of us spending time together and there’s been a noticeable distance between Dru and Elle lately. I’m hoping that a traditional girls’ night will fix that.