The Choice (Star-Crossed Lovers Duet, #1)

by Ashley Jade

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who gazed up at the night sky with teary eyes and made wishes on stars. She wished she could join her mama in heaven…because her life had become a living hell. She wished the demon that was destroying her mind, body, and soul would die, so she could feel safe again.

Once upon a time, a little girl made wishes on stars… Only, she didn’t wish for Prince Charming like so many other little girls. She wished for someone ugly and broken…just like she was. She wished for someone who’d love her so much it would take all her pain away. She wished for someone to save her… Before it was too late.

“Does your husband like to play with little boys when you’re not around?” Horrified, she places her hand over her heart. “What? No.” Yeah…we’re not gonna last long here.

I’ll never forget the moment my music teacher placed a guitar in my hands and I strummed my first note. It was like the first drop of a roller coaster. Like being sucked into a vortex. Like you’ve been reaching for the sky your whole life, and now you’re finally touching it. Like all the broken pieces inside me came together temporarily…and I was whole again.

The longer she stares up at the stars with her palms pressed together…the harder she cries. Like a broken angel praying for a miracle.

“What were you staring at?” My chest recoils. The girl. However, when I look out the window again…the light is off and she’s gone. “Nothing.” Only it didn’t feel like nothing. It felt like… reaching for the sky and finally touching it.

A few weeks back, Josh confessed his second biggest secret to me. While he mostly liked girls…he liked guys a little, too.

From what I’m told, a traumatic event happened when I was six, but I don’t remember any of it. Or rather, I don’t want to remember any of it.

I used to think she was oblivious to what was happening, but the older I got, the more I realized that wasn’t the case. She knows. I scan the colorful bruise marring her cheek, thanks to her husband. She just can’t do anything about it. My aunt Cheryl is just as much his victim as I am.

Why, Mama? It’s the same question I’ve asked myself since the day she died eight years ago and I moved in with my aunt. Why did she have to leave me? Why did she have to get cancer and die? Why can’t I be in heaven with her…instead of hell with him? What did I do to deserve this? Shane says it’s because I’m so beautiful he just can’t help himself. But I certainly don’t feel beautiful. I feel ugly and dirty. Like a hideous stain that can never be scrubbed away.

it’s my sanctuary. Hence, I call it tree home. Because home is supposed to be the place you feel safest. Whenever I come out here, I like to lie down, close my eyes, and pretend my treehome is so tall it touches the sky. So tall he’ll never be able to touch me again.

But there’s something about this boy—and the way he’s looking at me like I’m the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen—that makes me want to tell him the truth. “Skylar.” He smiles, and wow. He has a really nice smile. It’s what my aunt would call charming. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.” I nearly stumble back. Is he…flirting? Gross.

he doesn’t look repulsed by what’s staring back at him. It’s the exact opposite. He’s looking at me like I matter. Like I’m important. Like he accepts me. “I won’t hurt you, Skylar,” he states, and both the sincerity in his voice and the earnestness in his eyes make it hard to breathe. It’s like I’m being seen for the very first time…ugly parts and all.

“My aunt and her husband are…fine.” He studies me again. “Why don’t you call him your uncle?” Because that would mean he’s my family…and family shouldn’t do the kinds of things he does to me.

“Curtis,” he says after a minute. I blink up at him. “Curtis? Who’s Curtis?” “My biological male parent.” I raise a brow. “You mean your father?” He holds my stare. “He’s not my father…for the same reason your aunt’s husband isn’t your uncle.”

Josh is ugly and broken. Just like I am. Butterflies swarm in my tummy and my heart beats so fast it feels like it’s going to fly right out of my rib cage. My wish came true.

Josh grabs my hand and squeezes, like he’s giving me all his strength. Strength…and a lifeline. “I won’t hurt you, Skylar.” I believe him. Because he gets it. In ways no one else ever will. Which is why when he leans in and gently presses his lips to mine for two whole Mississippi seconds…I don’t stop him.

“Be strong.” Tears prickle my eyes because it’s getting harder and harder. Every day, Shane steals another piece of me. Pretty soon, there won’t be anything left but an empty shell.

But now there’s a boy… A boy who looks at me like I’m not ugly and dirty. A boy who shares my demons.

However, it seems he likes some girl he met in the woods a few days ago a lot more because he ghosted me yesterday. As if that wasn’t bad enough, last night I had to hear him drone on and on about how he’s gonna marry her.

However, that’s not what has my lungs locking up. It’s the girl sitting under the tarp. Because it’s not just any girl. It’s her. The same one I saw in the window. Only now, she isn’t crying. She looks happy.

“What are you doing?” “Building a treehome.” I’m pretty sure he means treehouse, but I don’t want to correct him in front of his girl. A weird twist goes through my chest. His girl. The one he swears he’s going to marry one day. They exchange a smile…and Jesus.

Her face is somehow even more perfect than I remember. Bright hazel-green eyes, a cute little nose that turns up ever so slightly, high cheekbones, and full pink lips. Even her eyebrows are perfectly symmetrical…just like the rest of her features. It’s like God chose to make her his most flawless canvas. And damn, did he succeed.

“Neither of those are strong enough to support a treehouse.” “Treehome,” Skylar whispers. I’ve never heard anyone call it that before, but treehome it is.

“You mean…like an actual house?” I nod. “A miniature one, but yeah.” Skylar’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. It makes me want to do whatever it takes to ensure she’s always smiling.

“What’s going on with her?” Because it’s clear something isn’t right. Sulking, he walks back over to the plywood. “Same stuff my dad used to do to me. Only it’s her uncle.” Christ. Now I’m the one who’s going to be sick.

Trust isn’t something I hand out freely. Because once you let someone in—once you give them access to those parts you keep hidden—it gives them leverage. To use against you. To manipulate you. To hurt you. I’ll never be able to trust someone that much. Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate that Josh does, though.

But after I finish building Skylar her treehome, I’m going to push her out of my head and pretend she doesn’t exist. Because she isn’t my sky to touch. She’s his.

Josh and I are going to get married one day. I know it. Which means Memphis and I will be family, too. Even though they’re not biologically related, they’re very much brothers. Josh said before I came along, Memphis was the most important person in the world to him.

“My birthday’s February twenty-ninth,” I shout, thoroughly frustrated. “But since it only comes around every four years, I have to celebrate it on the twenty-eighth. Even though I’ll be fourteen this year, technically, I’m only three…and a half.” A little smirk curls the corners of his lips before they flatten into a hard line.

“Did you say feet prisoners before, or was I hearing things?” “You weren’t hearing things. I don’t like wearing feet prisoners.” He raises a brow. “What are feet prisoners?” “You know, the things you put on your feet. Otherwise known as shoes.” He thinks about this for a moment. “Shouldn’t they be feet prisons? Because the feet are the prisoners.” I mean, if Mr. Smarty-Pants wants to be technical about it, I guess. “I like feet prisoners.” His mouth curves into a grin. “You might be the weirdest person I’ve ever met. And trust me, I’ve met some weirdos.”

“What’s your favorite song?” I tell him the truth. “I don’t have one.” His mouth drops open and he rears back in shock. “What? How can you not have a favorite song?” I chew my thumbnail. “I don’t know. I don’t really listen to a lot of music.” Shaking his head, he mutters something that sounds a whole lot like, “I knew it.” “Okay, Mr. Judgypants. What’s your favorite song?” Instantly, his face lights up. “Easy. ‘Purple Haze’ by Jimi Hendrix.” Doesn’t ring a bell. “Never heard of it.” His eyes close and he looks like he’s in physical pain. “You’re killing me.” I can’t help but feel like I just lost major points with him. Not that I was looking to earn any. “Sorry I don’t pass your cool test.” “Oh, you definitely pass my cool test,” he blurts out and a faint blush creeps up his neck again. I’m pretty sure I’m blushing, too.

Goose bumps break out along my skin and I fight back a shiver when he recites a line about kissing the sky. Not because of the lyrics but because of how he’s looking at me as he sings them. Like I’m the sky.

“I have to go. He’ll be home soon.” Leaning in, she kisses his cheek before whispering something in his ear. Whatever it is, has him turning pale as panic spreads across his face. He grabs her wrist. “Skylar, no. I love you.” The sorrow etching her features deepens and her tears fall faster. “I love you, too. Thank you for making my greatest wish come true.”

“Hara-kiri.” I have no idea what that is. “What’s hara-kiri?” His eyes become glassy. “It’s a Japanese ritual. Warriors did it to restore honor when they were facing disgrace or execution.” My insides twist with alarm as he continues. “It’s our code word.” His stare locks with mine and what he says next makes my chest cave in. “It was her way of telling me she’s going to kill herself tonight.”

Bile burns up my throat and there’s a crushing weight in my chest…one I don’t think will ever go away if Sky no longer has a pulse.

I see some man tied to a chair with rope. There’s duct tape covering his mouth…and a gun pointed at his head. A gun Josh is holding. Holy shit. “What the hell?” “This piece of shit is never gonna stop, Memph. I had no choice.” He keeps his gaze trained on his hostage—who I’m now realizing is Skylar’s uncle—when he speaks. “I can’t lose her.”

Trepidation snakes up my spine when I notice the large hole a few feet away. Jesus Christ. He dug a grave.

This isn’t just about Skylar. This is about his own trauma and how shortly after his kindergarten teacher reported his father…the bastard took his own life. He was never punished…and Josh never got justice.

You have your demons, Josh, but you’re not a murderer. You have your whole life ahead of you. In a few years, you can marry Skylar, run off and leave this shithole town for good. The two of you can be happy. But if you do this, you can’t undo it. You can’t control what the consequences might be after…what it might cost you.”

My throat closes as I look down at the gun in my hands. I don’t remember wrangling it from Josh. I don’t remember pulling the trigger. All I could think about was her. The tears streaming down her face as she looked up at the stars…praying for a miracle. The way she recoiled the first time I touched her…even though I was only trying to help. The fear in her voice as she pleaded with me not to hurt her…because it’s all she’s ever known. Because of him. And now he’s dead…because of me.

And just like that, I watch my life, my hopes, my dreams…go up in smoke. I’ll never know what it’s like to be free again. I’ll never have a wife and family. I’ll never be a famous guitar player.

“Repeat after me,” he instructs. “I didn’t kill him.” I blink, not understanding because I did kill him. “But I—” “I didn’t kill him,” Josh barks. “Say it.” “I didn’t kill him,” I whisper, even though it’s a lie. He brings our foreheads together. “Good. Now say it again.” “I didn’t kill him.” “That’s right. You didn’t…I did.” I stare at him in confusion. “No, you didn’t.” His eyes lock with mine. “Yes, I did. And you know why? Because you’re my brother, and I love you.” Because he’s my brother and he loves me.

“You’ve always had my back, Memph. It’s time for me to prove I have yours. Because we’re family.”

We’ll drag the body to the eight-foot hole he predug and bury a trash bag full of dead animals he collected three feet above the corpse in order to throw the police off. We’ll dispose of the gun—which belongs to Shane—in a nearby river with a rough current. We’ll burn our clothes in a firepit sometime this week. We’ll take the events that took place tonight to our grave.

They say life is a series of choices, and a single one can change the course of your life forever. Last night, I had to make a choice between good and bad. Right and wrong. I chose her.

A weird, unfamiliar feeling—one I’m always quick to tamp down the second it hits—swamps my chest. Sadness. Unwanted. Dispensable. Dammit. I know better than to get attached to places—or people—because it never lasts. Sooner or later…everything I love goes away.

“Me and Valerie have been talking a lot lately and we want to adopt you.” He clears his throat. “Not to get all sappy, but Valerie adores the hell out of you and I’m…” He averts his gaze. “Pretty fond of you, too.”

“Valerie and I know you and Josh are a package deal, so we’re prepared to adopt you both. If you’ll have us.” “Really?” He nods. I grin. “Then it’s cool with me.” All the worry drains from his face, and a rush of air leaves him in a big whoosh. “Hot damn. I haven’t been that nervous since I asked Valerie out on our first date.” Shaking his head, he chortles to himself. “I wanted to impress her, so I saved up for three whole months so I could take her to an expensive steak house.” I snort. “Man, I should have held out. All you offered me was half a pie.”

“At least when I tell people you’re my kid, no one will question where you got your good looks from.” That gets a laugh out of me. “Because we look so much alike.” “Yeah, you have a point.” He winks. “Anyone with a pair of eyes can see I’m way more handsome.” I let him have that one because even though I can’t bring myself to call him dad…the man just gave me something I’ve always wanted.