The Space Before (The Space Between Heartbeats #0.5) Read online

  The Space Before

  Prequel to The Space Between Heartbeats

  Dale’s Story

  MELISSA PEARL

  Copyright 2013 Melissa Pearl

  SECOND EDITION

  Re-edited & Released in 2015

  http://www.melissapearlauthor.com

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.

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

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  Cover art (copyright) by Eden Crane.

  All rights reserved.

  Eden Crane Design

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  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook 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 recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your preferred retailer and purchase your own copy.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  MELISSA PEARL’S VIP READERS

  Warning: This book is intended for mature teen readers due to coarse language and mature content.

  None of my other YA books require a warning, but this novella is a little different. I needed to write Dale's story honestly. I felt like the impact of his journey would have been lost if I glossed over some of the situations he faced. Therefore, I am recommending this book for mature teen readers.

  For my maker...

  I know what it's like to be in a really dark place...a black pit where the light seems impossible to find. My future felt bleak and hopeless.

  Thanks for not letting go and welcoming me home with open arms when I came back.

  I love you.

  Chapter One

  It's the beeping horn that makes me get out of my chair and walk to the window. I lean against the wall, lift the net curtain and peek around the frame. My breath catches like it always does when I see her. She's walking down the street, her petite hips swaying, her dark hair bouncing lightly against her back. Her straight nose is held high, but I don't miss the way it wrinkles when the Subaru Impreza comes to a stop alongside her. I scowl at the shiny new vehicle as some tall guy with blond hair and a cheesy smile jumps out. What's the bet that car belongs to his parents.

  He saunters around the vehicle and stands in front of her. A slow, sultry smile spreads over her lips and she stops walking. His eyes gleam to match, and I instantly despise him. His large arm curls around her back and pulls her into him, while his other hand roams free, gliding over her butt and giving it a squeeze.

  I grimace, wanting to snap each of his fingers one by one.

  It's tempting to turn away from the good-looking couple. Why torture myself watching them? But, I can't help it. There's something about that girl.

  From what I've heard, her name is Nicole. I think that's right. My mom mentioned it once. Something about the lovely Tepper lady who sold us this house and how the woman's daughter, Nicole, is a sophomore at the local high school. That makes her a year younger than me. I've never spoken to the girl, and most likely never will. I've been homeschooled ever since we arrived in Big Bear. My mom thought high school might all be too much after the accident. She's probably right.

  My eyes remain trained on the couple and their slightly grotesque make-out session. Aren't they aware they're on a public street? I'm tempted to call out "Get a room!" but press my lips together. For one, I'd never lower myself to say something so cliché and besides, I don't want Nicole to know that if I ever do spot her on the street, I can't help stopping to watch her pass by. So far, she hasn't seen the freak who lives around the corner from her, and I'm in no hurry to change that.

  I trace the scar that stretches from my right eye down to my chin. My mangled skin grosses me out. I have to remind myself on a daily basis that it's better than the alternative.

  Man, I was messed up back then.

  I shudder at the memories.

  Nicole and Blond Boy have finally pulled apart. He's dragging her towards the car with a persuasive smile. I can feel her reluctance from here; I think she's saying something about school. I watch her lips carefully and decide she's saying she can't skip school again. He shakes his head with a chuckle and nestles against her. I don't know what he whispers into her ear, but I can tell she doesn't want to do what he's suggesting. He cups the back of her head and kisses her lips before running kisses down her chin and coating her neck with his slobber.

  Foul! I hate the way he's mauling her. A girl that beautiful should be treated with respect. A little class and delicacy wouldn't go amiss. The fact I know I can treat her better only makes it worse.

  My insides churn as I study her subtle frown. But when Blondie pulls away, that stunning smile of hers is in place and the big guy knows he's going to get exactly what he wants.

  It makes me sick.

  Not because I think she's pathetic, although she probably is a little if she's going to let some guy persuade her so easily. No, what really curdles my guts is that I know exactly what that girl is going through. I know what it's like to be caught in a life you think you want, walking down a destructive path you don't know how to get off. It makes me want to run out of the house, down my front steps and rescue her. I want to wrap my arms around her and tell her there's a way out; she doesn't have to give into this guy, to the many guys who seem to knock on her door constantly. She can be better than this.

  Blondie doesn't even bother to open the door for her. I pierce him with an evil glare as he walks around the car and hops in. Nicole goes to her door and pauses with her hand against the glass. She breathes in and swallows, looking lost and afraid for a fleeting moment. I can taste her unrest, smell her desperation. But then the look is gone. With a short sniff, she lifts her chin, shakes her head and plasters on that smile.

  My heart is aching as I watch them drive away. I may not have met Nicole Tepper, but I know her. I know everything she's feeling, because I've felt all the same things before.

  Chapter Two

  14 months earlier in Los Angeles...

  The car horn sounds like a trumpet, making me laugh. Toby is anything but subtle. Jamming my feet into my navy Converse shoes, I tie the white laces in a hurry and rush for the door.

  "Where are you going?"

  My mother, one of the shortest people I know, tries to block my way. I gently nudge her aside as I zip up my gray hoodie.

  "I'm going out," I mumble.

  "No, you're not. It's Friday night. You have youth group. Your father is expecting to see you there."

  "Well, he's going to be disappointed...again. How many times do I have to tell you guys I'm not interested?" I don't want to sound snarky, but I can't help it. I hate youth group. I hate church. I hate that my dad is the minister and all he seems to do is harp on about it and force me to go to stuff that is boring as hell. It's bad enough they force me to the Sunday morning snore-fest each week. I decided a few months ago that my parents could stop stealing my Friday nights, as well. I used to sneak out after youth group all the time, but it was getting tiring. The last few months of just skipping it have been much easier, although I could do without the arguments.

  "Dale, stop." My mother's voice, usually so soft and sweet, has ta
ken on a hard edge. It's been doing that a lot lately.

  I don't bother holding in my sigh as I pause by the front door.

  "You know the rules."

  Do I ever!

  "You must attend youth group. How do you think it looks to the parishioners when their own minister's son doesn't even show up?"

  "I don't care how it looks." I spin around to face her. "I don't care what any of those people think. I'm not here to impress them. I never asked to be a minister's kid."

  "Dale…"

  "No! I'm going out."

  Her expression crests with sadness before bunching into a tight frown. Her thin lower lip trembles while her petite nostrils flare at the sides.

  I race out the door before she can stop me.

  “Dale, you come back here!” Her voice chases me down the path, all the way to Toby's car. I slam the door shut, trying to block it out.

  "Go, man, go!"

  Toby nods and screeches away from the curb, but not fast enough for me to miss the tears welling in my mother's eyes. I shouldn't have looked back.

  I hate that. Why does she have to go crying about it and making me feel bad? Maybe if she and Dad would stop lumping so many rules on me, and actually listen to what I had to say, I wouldn't have to cause her so much pain. This has been brewing for years, mostly without me knowing it, but at the end of my freshman year, I just snapped. I couldn't play the role anymore. I refused to keep following rules I thought were stupid. They weren't doing it because they loved me; they were just worried about what the damn church-goers thought. It was all about appearances. I refused to follow some religion I wasn't even sure I believed in. Hypocrites were the worst kind of sinners, and I wasn't going to be lumped in with them.

  No, I had chosen to swing to the complete opposite side of the spectrum. Having spent a lifetime living by the letter of the law, I was now doing my best to live as far from it as possible. And I was loving it...mostly. It would help a bunch if my parents would let me run wild for a bit without ramming coals of guilt into my belly by the spadeful.

  Toby stays silent as I brew over my decisions. It's not until we stop at the red light that he looks at me. His crooked grin appears, and then he punches me in the arm.

  I chuckle and run a hand through my short curls. "Shut up, man."

  "Dude, don't worry about it.” His pointy nose wrinkles. Everything about the guy is angular, from his square chin to his knobby knees. He is all sharp edges except for his wide green eyes with their ever-present mischievous twinkle in them. “You think I'd even have the car if my mom was home? If she didn't work all the damn time, I'd be fighting for my freedom just like you."

  "Do you think she knows how much you steal her car?"

  Toby shrugs and runs his skinny fingers over the wheel of the Cadillac DeVille. "I think she's too tired to figure it out."

  I chuckle. "Oh, man, what do you think she'd say if she knew?"

  The light turns green. Toby accelerates across the intersection, putting on a high voice. "Toby Gilford Tremlet, you're only fifteen years old. You shouldn't be anywhere near the wheel of a car. You don't even have a license yet!"

  I grin at his feminine sigh.

  "What am I going to do with you?" Toby bats his eyelashes and sighs again before rolling his eyes.

  I crack up. "Well, I think you've scored it pretty damn well. You have no old man ragging on you. Your mom is at the hospital all the time, and you're free to do whatever you want." I slap his shoulder. "You have it made."

  Toby's chuckle is hard and his smile quickly fades. My eyebrows pinch together as I watch him. But then he gives me a hard, pointed look, and I have to turn away. No guy wants to be psycho-analyzed by his high school buddy. There are rules.

  Thankfully, we turn onto Jack's street. Luis and Travis are waiting outside his house and jump into the car as soon as it stops.

  "Where's Jack?"

  "His dad got back last night, dudes. Jack's on lockdown." Travis slumps back in his seat while Luis does that hyena laugh of his. It always cracks me up. I laugh with him as we drive away, discussing the scariness of Jack's NAVY Seal father.

  "So, where are we going tonight?" Travis pulls out a smoke and hands it to me.

  I mumble my thanks as he lights it for me. I face the front again and take in a slow drag. As the smoke whistles out through my lips, my body starts to relax.

  "There's a party in Arcadia I thought we could check out." Toby indicates left and makes the turn.

  "They won't mind us South Pasadena High’s coming along?" I can't help feeling a touch nervous.

  Toby grins. "Nah, man. It's cool. There'll be other Tigers there."

  "Whose party is it?" I flick the ash from my cigarette out the window and drag in another mouthful of smoke.

  "This guy called Milo Griffin. His brother, Lucas, goes to Arcadia High, and Milo throws parties for his friends all the time."

  "He in college or something?"

  "Yeah, I think so. I don't really know." Toby changes lanes and heads east. "All I know is the parentals are basically nonexistent in that house, which means he can do whatever he wants."

  "I've heard he's a total legend," Travis sounds in awe. "He gets the best people at his parties. The girls are hot. The beer is free. What more could you ask for?"

  Luis whistles. "Sweet, bro. I am going to get me some tonight." He lets out a little Mexican wail that reminds me of the Speedy Gonzales reruns my older sister used to watch.

  Once again, I'm laughing. I flick my cigarette butt out the window, feeling free and content. A flash of my mother's watery gaze tries to dominate, but I shove it aside. Like hell she's going to ruin this for me.

  *****

  We can hear the party before we see it. The street is made narrow by the cars lining either side of it. Toby does a really bad parallel park down the end of the road. Our jeers at his useless skills don't help much. In the end, he curses us all to Hades and kicks us out of the car so he can finish in peace. He gives up pretty quick after that.

  I glance over my shoulder as we walk away from his mom's Cadillac. The car is sitting at this really awkward angle, and all we can hope for is that the front bumper will still be attached when we come back later.

  Walking towards the thumping music and blazing lights is a buzz. I don't know what the neighbors must be thinking, but I wouldn't be surprised if most of them are actually at the party. We shove our way through the crowd, following Toby as he makes a beeline for the kitchen and the keg. No one notices us four sophomores as we bust our way through. I can't believe I'm actually here. I have a giddy little kid moment, suddenly struck by how cool this all is.

  Me, Dale Finnigan, is officially at an Arcadia High party.

  I scan the crowd and spot a few familiar faces. Jasmine's here with her loser boyfriend. Man, I wish I didn't like her so much. More than that, I wish she wasn't dating such a jerk so I could have her.

  Annoyed that there's nothing I can do about it, I distract myself by checking out the other hotties in the room.

  A gorgeous young thing with eyes the color of dark cocoa and chocolate curls to match saunters past me. I accidentally brush against her swaying hips. I mumble an apology. She turns back, her brown eyes gleaming. I can't help noticing the way her tight dress is squashing her breasts together. I force my eyes away from her cleavage.

  "No problem." She smirks, and the tip of her tongue touches the edge of her top lip as she eyes me up and down. "See you around." Her silky voice makes a quiver run down my spine, and I watch those swaying hips until I can see them no more.

  Tonight, I am king.

  "Hey, Finnigan." I turn at the sound of Toby's voice. He's shuffling towards us, trying to balance four red cups in his hands while negotiating the over-crowded room. We each take one before they crash to the floor.

  I glance at the frothing amber brew and grin.

  "Gentlemen." Toby raises his glass. "To a night of revelry, delinquency and indecent behavior."

&nb
sp; We smack our cups against his with a cheer. I try not to wince as I down the warm brew. I'm still getting used to the taste. I smack my lips together and down another mouthful.

  "Well, who do we have here?" The jeering way the words are spoken makes my body instantly tense. I don't want to turn around and see who's about to kick me out of this party, but I can't help it.

  I glance over my shoulder and spot a buff guy in black jeans and a tight checkered shirt standing behind us. His dark blond hair is scruffy, as is his stubbly chin. I look at the whiskers with a touch of jealousy, wishing I wasn't just some squirty little fifteen-year-old.

  "Milo." Toby tips his glass. "How's it going, man?"

  It could just be me, but I feel like Toby's voice is tighter than normal. I want to look at his face to see if I can read more, but Milo slams his hand onto my shoulder and gives it a little squeeze.

  "So, who are your friends, Tobs?"

  With a mild blush, Toby introduces us. I shake Milo's hand, trying to ensure my grip matches his. I don't know what it is about the guy. I'm a little afraid of him, but at the same time desperate to impress him. It’s a weird combo. There's something about the way his pale blue eyes scrutinize me. They look cold and callous, yet the guy's lips are drawn into a friendly smile.

  I can sense a slightly hard edge to his voice as he asks about us, but his interest seems genuine. The guy's a walking contradiction. I usually pride myself on being able to read people, but this guy is going to be hard to figure out.

  That fact makes me cautious, but then the urge to impress him rounds on me again, so without a backward glance, I follow him and my friends deeper into the party and lose all sense of time.

  Chapter Three

  I have no idea what time it is as Toby drops me home, but the sun is up, and I can see blue sky. I watch Toby's car rumble away and grimace as I turn for the house. My legs feel like seaweed, and my brain has turned into bright pink candyfloss.