Never A Choice (The Choices Trilogy (Book 1)) Read online

  Never A Choice (The Choices Trilogy Book # 1)

  Copyright © 2015 Dee Palmer

  Published by Dee Palmer

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in an form, including but not limited to electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either products of the authors imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This 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 person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase to, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Warning: This story is on the filthy side of smut and isn’t suitable for those who don’t enjoy graphic descriptions that are erotic in nature, but for those that do, enjoy ;)

  This story is the first part of three books but can be read as a standalone. I just hope you will want to read more.

  Table of Contents

  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

  Acknowledgements

  Choices Playlist

  About The Author

  Always A Choice

  For My Husband—All My Love, Always

  Four Years Ago

  “YOU’RE AN IDIOT!” John jerks me up his back to get a bit more comfortable and I grip a little with my thighs to prevent me slipping back down before he repeats. “You’re an idiot for working tonight with a busted ankle.

  “Says the idiot carrying me half the mile home at one in the morning.” I kiss the soft hairs on the back of his neck and smile against his warm skin. He smells of fresh cut wood and mint from a recent shower.

  “It’s bad enough you have to work on a school night but you needed to rest, it’s like a freaking balloon now.” He lifts my leg but the dim street lamp fails to highlight his argument as my ankle is covered in my jeans and hidden in the shadow of the dark night. He’s not really mad, he’s never really mad and he sighs as I rest my chin n his shoulder and my arms just hug him a little tighter.

  “I need to work and it looks worse than it is.” He grumbles under his breath and continues to walk me home, well, carry me home. He meets me each night after I work late at my local pub. It’s a small village pub and I do a little cooking in the evening, serve the food and help behind the bar. It’s not strictly legal but I’m not likely to tell, I need the extra money and the late nights are better paid. It’s the only thing John and I ever argue about, I won’t take his money and he thinks Kit, my sister, should contribute more. He gets no argument from me there but he works just as hard. His money is going toward a place of his own because his Dad has given him notice to quit like some troublesome tenant. He needs every penny and at least I still have a home. He shifts again and I can feel the tension in his shoulders, this is the second time he has carried me today. The first was when it happened, when I decided to throw myself off the eight foot stone wall.

  For the last seven years when my mum was happy enough to let me wander a little further afield John and I would do just that. Miles and miles of footpaths and bridleways, fields, riverbanks and woodlands we explored together and I only ever had the vaguest sense of where we were. I was always in a state of constant surprise that we had managed to find our way home. John would tell me I shouldn’t really leave the house without a ball of string tied to my front door but I didn’t need the string, I had John and he always knew where we were and where we were going. He had given me a leg up so I could grab the top of the wall and using his shoulders I just manage to pitch myself up and sit on the top. He told me to wait, he told me not to jump and he told me he still loved me even though I had jumped and twisted my ankle so bad he had to carry me home. After nearly three miles across the fields he also told me I was a Dumb-Ass.

  For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, John carefully lowers me to my feet by my back door. The house is quiet but my mum has left the kitchen light on which filters a warm glow across his soft dark features. He is frowning and I know it has nothing to do with how much his back is probably hurting. “I hate that you have to work Boo. I hate it might affect your studies.” He is holding my gaze and his eyes are serious and pained.

  “I know, but it won’t, I won’t let it. I know how important-.” I don’t finish because he huffs in frustration. I reach my hand to his cheek, his smooth skin hidden beneath his evening stubble. I try to ease his tension and get a smile from his lips by covering them with my own. I am bolder with him now and the tender touch is quickly consumed with pent up passion that is slowly destroying me and driving me insane. I turned sixteen at the end of the summer, it’s nearly Christmas and he is almost seventeen. I kind of thought he would be just as eager as me to experience each other in a way we had promised. I had the briefest meltdown when I thought that at best he had the patience of a saint or at worst he just didn’t think of me that way. I was very wrong on both counts and he assured me he thought of me that way every second of every day but he wanted to wait. He wanted to make sure I was ready and not just because I had reached a legal age and I know he knew I was but he also wanted it to be perfect. He had saved his wages over the months and had bought the raw materials to fashion a unique promise ring. A smooth band of silver looped in a heart that was beautifully distorted to look like the symbol for infinity and it had two shiny blue stones set where the metal crossed. He gave this to me on my birthday, his promise to me and I was so ready to give myself to him, as my promise to him. This weekend he was moving into his own place and had a special day planned. With no expense spared he promised but said that we would play the rest by ear, adding that he’d had enough self-restraint to last him a life time.

  He groans against my lips and I can feel his smile against my mouth as he pushes my shoulder back trying to break away but I stretch my neck to try and keep the sweet contact a little longer. I let out a heavy sigh and mourn the loss of warmth when he finally succeeds with the separation.

  “I’ll meet you after college tomorrow, now go get some sleep so you can study hard.” He kisses me once more but with fixed tight lips. It’s a definitive dismissal and I pout but he laughs and shakes his head at his own personal struggle to leave.

  “I can’t wait for the weekend.” I whisper and grin when I hear him draw in a sharp breath.

  He flashes his bright white smile, “Why? What’s happening . . . Ow!” He grips his ribs as I retrieve my finger from jabbing in his side.

  “You’re an idiot!” I try to hold my narrowed eyed scowl but end up laughing with him. He steps back to me his body all hard w
ith heat and muscle. He cups my face, his mint fresh breath kisses my skin when he whispers back, ‘me too’ and with one last kiss he starts to walk backwards down the path.

  “I saved for this because although I know it’s just for one day, I want it to be special. I want to treat you like a princess.” His eyes are darker now because his face is in the shadow of the moonlight but I can feel his fire.

  “It better not be just for one day.” I choose to misinterpret his meaning and am rewarded with a deep laugh as he chooses to misinterpret me.

  “Well, in that case I’m gonna need a second and third job . . . princess.” He quips.

  “Dumb-Ass” I call after him. It’s not about the money, he treats me like a princess every day, but I’ll wait for him, because as crazy as I might think it is, it’s important to him. It was the worst choice.

  Today

  “OH GOOD GOD Bets what are you wearing?” Sofia practically screams at me as she bounds into my bedroom only to freeze with a look of complete horror on her face.

  “What?” I ask with genuine surprise as I look down at my ensemble.

  “I’m supposed to be a ‘Mature Student’ remember?”

  Sofia has been my best friend since college. She sat next to me at the induction meeting and within five minutes of break time I knew everything. I knew that she had recently moved to the area, she had four brothers, many many more cousins and worked in one of her families’ restaurants. She loved dancing, loved drinking more though and that she had a small angel tattooed on her butt that would have her shipped to the mountains of Italy if her father was ever to find out. We were both aged sixteen starting college and since John decided not to go the college route I was grateful she decided we would be friends. I had only known her four years but the events that happened in that time irrevocably changed my life and Sofia, her brother and her family were my lifeline and I couldn’t repay their kindness if I had a thousand lifetimes. I immediately liked her openness and quickly fell in love with her energy for life, her confidence but above all her honesty. This is why I had asked for her assistance in creating the ‘appropriate’ first impression for my first day at University.

  “Well yes, but mature doesn’t mean dead. I’m pretty sure my Aunt was wearing that outfit when she was buried and that was eight years ago! You haven’t been digging have you?” Sofia giggles but abruptly stops when she sees my expression has quickly changed from confused to worried and that really wasn’t what she had intended with her little joke.

  “Besides,” she gently adds. “‘Technically’ a Mature Student is defined as aged twenty five and over remember and what age are you supposed to be?”

  “Twenty five, or so it says on my recently doctored and scanned birth certificate.” I smile as I wave the documents I have to take for registration today. I can’t think of a time when I would be thankful to my sister. In fact, I can’t think of her at all without grinding my teeth to the point of inducing a mind numbing headache, which is why I don’t think of her at all. I have not thought about her for years, not since the day she died. She didn’t die but she was dead to me. She wanted a clean slate, hers was dirty I was sure of it, not just her reputation, her juvenile record for theft and drug dealing but I always just got the sense she was hiding more. I gave up caring what that was when she stole all the money from the sale of our home and left me to pick up the tab for our mothers on going health care. Our mum was diagnosed with Alzheimers’ when I was fourteen but she deteriorated rapidly and when I was sixteen, Kit and I took the decision to sell the house. I had found a nice care facility and the sale would mostly pay for that and between us we could make up the rest. Kit had Power of Attorney and ultimately had access to the money. She talked about starting afresh, rewriting her life and I didn’t understand why that was important at the time. I never believed she meant a fresh start away from me. I was staying with Sofia for a couple of months while Kit stayed at her boyfriend Dick’s flat. She said it would take a while to sort out her new life and find somewhere we could both live. She just disappeared one day and shortly after that I got notification from the care-home that the next quarter payment was due and that’s when I knew, really knew what she had done. Sofia’s family helped me with a full time job and sorting a payment plan with the nursing home. I couldn’t move my mum into state care after seeing that she was settled and happy. I could still do my A-levels at night school it would just take a little longer. I wasn’t giving up on my education. The promise I made may haunt me because of what I lost but it keeps me focused. “Ok, I may have overdone the age thing.”

  “Ya think?” mumbles Sofia.

  “Let me change, just wait a moment.” I try to spin quickly only managing to jerk and squeak on my flat square crepe healed shoes. Really what was I thinking? I return moments later.

  “Oooo, yes, that’s much better.” Sarcasm dripping from every slowly uttered word. “An amorphous blob is exactly the right way to go.” She raises her perfectly shaped eyebrows and I sigh. Damn those judgemental eyebrows! I slump on the edge and fall into the one and only armchair. I am actually feeling a little lost and Sofia seems to know this as she quickly has me in her tight embrace squeezing the very uncertainty out of me.

  “Bets, you have always been ‘mature,’ regardless of the clothes you wear, I’m afraid, ‘an Old Soul’ remember that’s what Mama has always called you? So how about you forget this,” she says waving her arms erratically around the array of clothes I’m wearing and have dropped in a heap. “Just wear something you are going to be happy in, comfortable, more confident and more you?”

  The uncertainty I am feeling right now and the knots I have in my stomach aren’t me. I know I don’t reach the dizzy heights of super confident Sofia, but I have had to assert myself from time to time and I’m not shy. I don’t have hang ups and insecurities because frankly I don’t have the time to care. I don’t want a relationship other than my friends and everything I have gained in my life is down to my own abilities and hard work. I’d like to say I wouldn’t want it any other way but I’m not a masochist and I’m not an idiot. But I am definitely floundering here. I am uncomfortable with the fact that I’m pretending to be an age I’m not in order to study for a degree I want, it has to be part-time because I can’t afford to not work full time. I’m uncomfortable that I am living illegally above the restaurant, a commercial property with no permission for residential use. Sofia’s family are too sweet to let me live here but this is a risk for them. The benefit of additional security which I afford could easily be performed by a decent alarm system.

  “Bethany Edith Thorne!” Sofia scolds interrupting me from my inner flagellation. I hate it when she uses my middle name, it means she’s losing her not so famous patience. I exhale despondently and I bury my head in my hands.

  “This just isn’t you Bets. I’m your best friend and I don’t understand why you’re trying to hide who you are. You’re bright and confident and you’ve got a cracking bod under all that shit! I mean killer curves. You know it’s not just your sparkling personality that has the boys lining up, right?” She’s sitting directly in front of me now daring me to break eye contact. She knows I’m not happy the direction this conversation is heading but before I can challenge her she interrupts. “Brothers, I know, they are all like brothers. This is me sweetie I know how you feel and I know why you feel like that. I understand, I do and I can see you’re shutting down so I won’t push and you know I want to right?” She nudges my leg and I give a weak grin. “Just don’t hide.” She whispers.

  I smile with a bit more life and give a sharp nod of determination. “Alrighty then!” I leap from the chair lifting the gloom that had descended forcing Sofia to fall on her butt.

  “Give me five minutes.” I call over my shoulder as I leave the room once more.

  “Your last chance Miss or I’ll dress you myself, I’ve got hot pants, boob tube and high heels with your name on them!” She half threatens.

  Well, Ok so I shoul
dn’t want to hide, just stay under the radar maybe, blend and I’m thinking six inch heals clip-clopping across the cobbles of the Quad would not aid that objective. So third time lucky I emerge.

  I’ve settled on my soft and worn pale blue Levis rolled up with my favourite red lace-up pumps, a fitted plain white T and my dark green short leather jacket and striped cotton scarf wrapped loosely several times around my neck. My wavy dark chestnut hair is scooped into a loosely manageable knot and my make-up is barely there with some mascara and a splash of nude lip gloss.

  “Beautiful butterfly, beautiful butterfly.” Sofia beams and I lightly punch her on the arm for taking the piss but I know I’m good to go.

  “I’ll want all the dets later . . . so call me?” Sofia’s hug is getting a little emotional and a little tight.

  “Stop! You’re making me nervous and I don’t need to call. I’ll see you later, I’m working the late shift.”

  “I thought you would take tonight off at least, you know, just in case you hook up?” She teases.

  “Bye Sofs.” I leave, she has a key, she can lock up.

  I tend to walk everywhere but today I’m running late and don’t want to spend the rest of the day sweaty from rushing. All the same it’s a shame to get the tube when London is in midst of Autumn and there has been no wind severe enough to strip the trees bare. It’s my favourite season and the only time of year that you really notice the sheer number of trees around the city that are now golden, bronze and fiery copper.

  The campus itself is spread over a few locations across the city but the oldest and main part is the Quad, a cobbled courtyard surrounded on three sides by early nineteenth century buildings. They may no longer dominate the skyline as they once had but they are imposing nonetheless. I pass the Gate House and make my way through the crowds of students to the Student Information Centre. My main objective today, aside from the actual registration is to work out how I can fit my part-time degree into a full-time timetable without raising suspicion. I need to double up on the part-time units in whatever way my work time-table will accommodate. I really don’t want this degree to take the typical eight years when I know I can do it in three. As I see it, I just have to approach each subject tutor individually and get them to accept me taking their extra lessons in addition to the lessons I’m actually assigned and just hope they don’t compare notes. Simple.