The Only Choice (The Choices Trilogy #3) Read online




  The Only Choice (The Choices Trilogy Book # 3)

  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 ;)

  For free stories sign up to my Newsletter on the contact page at http://deepalmerwriter.com/ (Promise No Spam)

  or click here

  http://eepurl.com/biZ6g1

  To receive this freebie

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  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

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek of Ethan's Fall

  Acknowledgements

  Choices Playlist

  About the Author

  For My Husband—All My Love, Always

  GOD I MUST have really been out if it for the last six weeks to not have said something, anything about this monstrosity I’m wearing. I know she’s my best friend and it’s her day, but honestly every time I look down or catch a sneaky glimpse in the many reflective surfaces around this lavishly decorated room I feel nauseous. She promised I was going to be Pippa to her Kate and I distinctly remember having my satin ivory court dress with the halter neck and scooped back fitted to perfection. But no, as I stand guard to the gift table in a taffeta lime green tartan puff ball of a gown I am a shoe-in for Mrs Shrek. Still it must have happened because here I am. Although I can’t remember much of the ceremony and the faces are a little blurry. Funny I don’t remember drinking at all not even to toast the happy couple. It feels all wrong. I have dutifully and carefully placed each gift and thanked the guests as they filter passed. I sway a little, I just feel so sick and it can’t just be the dress, although. . . . My wayward thoughts are frozen as I stare into the deepest dark blue eyes, piercing me and searing a fearful panic in my chest. The line of people directly in front of Daniel drift apart and he steps forward, his long arm tenderly draped over the shoulder of . . . No! It’s only then I notice Angel is his plus one.

  I swallow so loudly I’m surprised I don’t interrupt the music of the band playing in the corner of the large ballroom. I grit my teeth and can feel the tension pinch its way to my temples. I steel myself, I am going to be calm. This is Sofia’s big day, but seriously, what the fuck! They stand in front of me, his chest to her back, pressed together. His fingers curled protectively on her bony shoulders holding her to him. They are a little too close to me but with the table directly at my back I can’t step away, the distance is oppressive. I don’t know how, maybe some inherent hospitality training but I actually manage to speak, politely.

  “It’s lovely to see you, both?” I can’t help if I sound disingenuous. Daniel doesn’t smile, his face is ever impassive but his eyes are fixed with a familiar heat. Angel is wearing a long velvet evening gown with one shoulder strap. It is simple, elegant and looks like it has been cut to her body perfectly but its black, she looks like she’s at a funeral.

  Angel’s voice is saccharin sweet and is not helping my nausea. “I simply love weddings and when I saw Daniel’s invite had a plus one, well, I knew you wouldn’t mind. You have been so generous already.” Her lips smear into a knowing smile.

  I flinch at her words and unsuccessfully try again to recoil and gain some space. I hadn’t been generous at all. Daniel chose her. He didn’t want me enough but I definitely didn’t give him away and here she is rubbing it in my face. She stole my fucking life and he broke my heart and I have to welcome them to the party, well fuck that. I stiffen and straighten my back but before I can react, everything slows down and like watching a painfully slow exaggerated frame by frame sequence of a movie my eyes drift to follow the line of her gaze. She reaches into her ruche silk clutch purse and pulls something long, shiny and sharp. Light flashes and the bright sun reflects on the mirrored surface, momentarily blinding me. I scream at the first plunge and incredible splitting, slicing pain. My hands grasp my belly, holding back the flow of pain, catching the pooling blood that drips through my fingers. I know I’m screaming now and my eyes snap toward Daniel but he hasn’t moved. I don’t understand why hasn’t he moved? Why is no-one helping me? It hurts so fucking much. A blinding light makes me squeeze my eyelids tight as my legs give way, my hands leave my belly to protect my eyes from the intensity of the light. My head throbs, my chest feels like it is going to explode, every nerve in my body violently trembles. I just hurt.

  “What the Fuck!” The gruff, angry voice startles me awake. My eyes blink as wildly as my heartbeat, adjusting to being open. A loud crash as Ethan drop’s whatever he was holding on the hardwood floor and kneels beside me. I have gathered my knees up to my chin and wrapped my arms around my legs, holding tight and trying to regain my sanity. “You scared the crap out of me Bets. What are you doing here? I thought you left already? Have you been here to whole time?” His quick fired questions are just a blur. I couldn’t answer them if I tried. I just can’t get the nightmare out of my head and I can feel my whole body continue to shake, my skin is slick, dripping with shock. “Ok, Ok, you’re all right now shhh.” Ethan grabs the fur throw from my bed and despite the room temperature probably being in the mid-twenties I am grateful for the instant warmth and can feel my shivers start to subside. Now I just feel awkward and hugely embarrassed, not the least of which because I can now see that Ethan is completely naked.

  “Ethan baby, shall I call the police?” A small voice calls from the other side of the bedroom door and I hear Ethan curse under his breath.

  “No Sky, it’s fine, just go back to bed I’ll be there in five.” He sighs and although I have regained a normal breathing pattern I still can’t bring myself to look at his face.

  “Sorry.” My voice is croaky and it’s then I realise that I must have been screaming blue murder for it to feel so rough.

  “No need to be sorry, just a little surprised that’s all . . . well more than a little. Look, do you mind if I go and put some clothes on and then come straight back?�
� He coughs to hide his embarrassment and I instantly feel a little less embarrassed myself. I nod but keep my eyes averted. I am still tucked up beside the bed wrapped in the throw when he returns with a glass of water. I smile weakly, take the glass and sip. “You Ok?” He voices is soft like maybe he is tending a wounded animal and I chance a look at his face for the first time since I woke. His soft brown eyes are filled with concern and he is trying for a comforting smile but I can see he is struggling. I so didn’t want this to happen. Why can’t I just keep all my crazy shit to myself? I hadn’t meant to fall asleep but after Daniel walked out I just collapsed. I must’ve crawled to the side of the bed and lay on the deep sheepskin rug and fallen into an exhausted coma because looking at the clock on the wall I have been asleep for nearly twelve hours.

  “If I said yes would you believe me?” I sigh and give the faintest of smiles.

  He lets out a loud short laugh and with it some of the tangible tension. “Um no I don’t think I would.” He places his hand gently on my knee and gives a sort of mix between a pat and a comforting squeeze. He waits for me to say something.

  I take a deep breath. I’ve woken him and his date up, the least he deserves is an explanation. I just know I will have to keep it brief or I will break all over again. “I had a nightmare, I get them sometimes.” He raises a brow as if stating the bloody obvious wasn’t quite what he meant so I continue. “Daniel left me. I’m no longer engaged.” I rush the words like pulling a band aid but it really doesn’t stop the pain it just makes it sharp and instant. “But I can’t . . .” I draw in a breath that’s already starting to break and Ethan quickly sits beside me and wraps his long arm across my shoulders. I shake my head to try and physically stop the thoughts from entering my brain.

  “It’s Ok sweetheart . . . you don’t have to . . . It’s all right . . . you’re going to be all right.” He pulls me into his chest and kisses my head and that just about breaks the very finest thread I was hanging on by and I fall, crash and burn. Long uncomfortable minutes pass with me barely drawing enough breath to maintain the out pouring of gut wrenching sobs. My eyes are raw and I just want to disappear right about now it hurts so fucking much. “Ah Shit Bethany, what can I do? Please tell me something I can do? You’re breaking my heart like this, please sweetheart, stop crying, shhh, come on sweetheart. I know it’s clichéd but he is not fucking worth this.” His fingers are stroking circles on my arms and he gives comforting squeezes intermittently. After a while, sensing my breathing slowly returning to normal he whispers. “You know Dad’s in construction right? Pretty sure we could hide the body, large holes in the ground, concrete, that sort of thing, just say the word Bets. Hell, you might not even have to say the word the way I’m feeling at this moment.” He grumbles.

  This makes me chuckle and I wipe my sore eyes, my cheeks sting from all the tears but his words have made me sit up. I look into his eyes for the first time in many heart wrenching minutes. “I think I mentioned my abhorrence to violence and like you said he’s not worth it.” I feel a painful bite in my chest at these false words but I need to practice my own mask if I am to function like a normal human any time soon. I might as well start now. He flashes a brighter smile at this sentiment. “Tired, emotional and a little unstable at the moment but no need to call in the big guns.” I let out a calming sigh. “I will be fine. I promise. I know I must look like shit but I feel better.” I wriggle and start to stand. “I’m going to freshen up, get some more sleep and I will see you at breakfast.” He frowns and looks suspicious but I return my most convincing smile yet and add. “Thank you by the way. I really appreciate everything and I promise, tomorrow will be a fresh start.” He stands and walks with me to just outside the en-suite and I hold my breath hoping he is buying my Oscar winning act. He bear hugs me and holds longer than is comfortable and my restricted breathing is starting to make me panic but he releases his grip just before I ruin the moment with a frantic cry and gasp for oxygen.

  “All right Bets, if you’re sure but if you need anything, call me Ok? You really don’t have to resort to screaming the place down to get me in your room naked.” He winks and with a cheeky smile goes to leave.

  I offer my best attempt at a smile. I know its a weak effort but I am happy that Ethan seems to have reverted to his more normal treatment toward me. I relax a little because flirty is so much better than pity. He closes my door and I start to peel my clothes off, walking into the bathroom I turn the shower on full. I feel like a functioning shell but I am determined to function and practice acting skills, if need be. This tragic life turn will not define me, it will not break me and despite every fibre in my body screaming your wrong, I will survive Daniel Stone because he made his choice and it wasn’t me.

  I didn’t dare fall back to sleep after my shower. I wouldn’t risk another dream, another nightmare, besides it was only a few hours until dawn. After I had completely packed and tidied my bedroom and bathroom it was nearly light. I had decided to cook breakfast for Ethan and his guest before I take the train back to London. I prepared most of the food but needed bodies before I could cook the eggs because they really don’t fare well in the warming oven. I poured myself a coffee and added lots of milk in lieu of preparing a latte with Ethan’s fancy machine because it makes enough noise to raise the dead. With the sun just peaking over the horizon I can selfishly enjoy the spectacle on my own. I lean on the railing of the balcony, steaming cup in hand and suddenly feel very small. The absolute stunning beauty of the breaking dome of brilliant light where the sun kisses the sea and the sparks of reflective light dance on the rippling waves is spellbinding. The early morning chill vanishes as the creeping morning light races across the land and hits me full in the face. I close my eyes and bask in the gentle warmth, so distracted I don’t hear the door open and only become aware of company when Ethan nudges his arm against mine.

  “Hey.” His voice is soft and I look up into his eyes, his brow is furrowed but he thankfully doesn’t look too tired.

  “Hey.” I smile but bite my lips together in an attempt to swallow back all my rising embarrassment from last night. “Look I’m so sorry about last night.” I don’t want to rehash everything, new day, new start, so I quickly move the conversation on. “I’ve made breakfast for you and your guest, Full English . . . the works. My smile is brighter than it deserves to be. I lead him back into the kitchen before he can comment although his brows just seem to knit tighter together. “So scramble or fried?” I wave the spatula enthusiastically and turn the gas on.

  “Bethany I think we need to—” He snaps his mouth at the same time I hear the light voice from last night cry.

  “Oooo something smells good, I do love your. . Oh!” She stumbles to a halt as if she’s hit a glass wall and flashes a scowl at me, narrow eyes and tight lips. She is tiny, masses of tight blonde curls. She is wearing one of Ethan’s t-shirts that is hanging off one shoulder and reaches her knees. Her skin is sporting a permanent tan which I would think has little to do with a spray can and more to do with endless hours on the beach.

  The tension I could cut with my spatula and after a few never ending awkward moments I step forward with my hand. “Hi I’m Bethany, Ethan’s sister.” The loud scraping of the kitchen chair across the wooden floor causes us both to stare at Ethan as he growls.

  “Not my fucking sister!” He is radiating anger and as I’ve never seen him like this I instantly go into placate and diffuse mode.

  “Okaay, you’re right of course . . . not his sister but well, anyway I’m cooking breakfast before I head back to London would you like some, there is plenty?” I have laid the table and its clear there is enough but Ethan grumbles.

  “Sky’s just leaving.” Exactly the same time Sky says. “That would be great”

  “Okaay,” I sort of wish the ground would swallow me now and judging by the look on Sky’s face she’s wishing that too. I wonder if I look like that when I look at Angel. I silently mock myself, even if I did, it doesn’t bloo
dy work. The scowl is still effective, however, in making me retreat. I turn to face the gas and quietly crack some eggs into a pan; without a preference being expressed, fried eggs it is. Stubbornly refusing to turn round despite the hushed heated exchange on the far side of the lounge I only let out my breath when I finally hear the front door close. I have dished up Ethan’s plate and a little for me, although I can’t face anything on mine right now. Even my normal coffee I’ve ditched in favour of a peppermint tea. Ethan sits beside me as I chase my food around my plate, stacking and hiding in an attempt to make the portion look eaten. He roughly picks up his fork and stabs at his breakfast like it’s going to pay, whatever it’s done it’s definitely going to pay. God he looks pissed and he always looks so chilled I can’t help but feel truly awful that I’m the cause.

  I push back from my chair. “I should go.” He grabs my hand before I can leave the table and his eyes are wide with shock.

  “No don’t!” His voice is sharp but he quickly shakes his head and adds in a much softer voice. “Please Bethany, don’t go.”

  I squeeze his hand. “Ethan, you’ve been so kind and I’ve had the best time, really but I have made you angry and ruined your date and I do have to get back so I think its best—” I smile because I hate this new awkwardness.

  He interrupts but turns his hand to hold mine. “I’m not angry with you Bets. I’m angry with me, I’m angry with Daniel, no I’m fucking furious with Daniel. I can’t believe he did this to you, he’s such an arsehole!” His gruff voice is fired through gritted teeth but then he relaxes, “but mostly I’m pissed with myself.” The confusion on my face must be clear because he quietly continues to elaborate. “Look yesterday you were getting married to that guy.” He holds my hand a little tighter as I crumple at the waist and fold like I can again feel that stabbing in my belly. “Sorry, but, well it’s true and now you’re telling me that you’re not. Fuck, I wouldn’t have . . . you were engaged for fuck sake! How could I have known? Fuck! This isn’t me. No, it is me, but . . .” He drags his other hand through his hair and is clearly irritated, angry, frustrated; whichever or maybe all three and again I feel like shit because it’s my fault.