Never My Girl (Always, Maybe, Never Book 3) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Other Titles by S. Herrera

  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

  Epilogue

  Bonus Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Never My Girl

  Copyright 2021 by S.Herrera All Rights Reserved

  Published by Anything Bookish

  Editor: Delaney Watkins, Anything Bookish

  Proofreading: Delaney Watkins, Anything Bookish & Beth Hudson, Beth Hudson Edits

  Interior Design & Formatting: Juliana Cabrera, Jersey Girl Design

  Cover Design: Y’all. That Graphic

  No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form by any means, including photocopying, recording or other electronical or mechanical methods, without prior written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Story lines, names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidences are products of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual events, places, or persons is entirely coincidental.

  other titles by s. herrera

  Always, Maybe, Never Series

  Always My Girl

  Maybe My Girl

  Never My Girl

  To DW Assistant TO THE Author.

  It’s your world and I’m just writing in it…

  You win!

  prologue

  He slams the door shut, causing me to flinch, which sends the pain I’m already feeling radiating through the rest of my body.

  Why did he do this to me?

  The question keeps running through my head, and I try every time to come up with an acceptable answer. Only there isn’t one.

  I don’t dare move from my spot on the floor for the next fifteen minutes after he walks out the door. It feels like hours, but the bright red numbers on the clock sitting on the table by the bed tell me otherwise.

  Feeling confident that he is most likely at the party and won’t be coming back until the early morning hours, I push myself up into a sitting position. Each movement causes a new pain to surface, the throbbing so severe I have to fight the urge to throw up.

  I hobble into the bathroom hunched over and collapse by the toilet. But nothing comes. The dry heaving makes it hard to breathe and the burning in my ribs intensifies.

  Finally, the lurching of my stomach stops. Dropping my head down on my arms, I replay the night, wondering what I should have done differently.

  SLAM!

  “Erik, what happened?” He’d sent me up to the room when the show was over so he and the guys could meet some hotshot record exec that was in the audience.

  “He didn’t offer us a fucking deal. That’s what happened,” he yells.

  Instinctively, I take a step back. The yelling has been getting more frequent with every show and every bottle of vodka. This used to be the part where he would apologize, but that seems like such a distant memory. I miss that Erik.

  He sits at the small table in the corner of the room and pours himself another glass. I come up from behind, running my hands across his shoulders.

  “It’ll all work out. Obviously that guy sucks. You have another show tomorrow.” I attempt to comfort him in hopes I can diffuse his anger before it consumes us both.

  It doesn’t work.

  Erik stands abruptly, causing me to jump back and his chair to fall over, hitting the floor with a crash. “That guy was one of the best in the industry! It won’t all work out because I don’t have a daddy to run home to when my dreams fail!”

  With every word, he takes a step forward, and I take one back. Trying and failing to get away from him as my back hits the wall.

  “Just because you gave up on your dreams doesn’t mean the rest of us will.” His voice lowers, and I relax just the slightest bit. It’s a mistake. “Did you say something to him?” The anger is back in his tone full force.

  “No- no, Erik.” I sputter. “I wouldn’t do that. You know that.”

  “Do I?” He yells, pulling his fist back. It comes flying in my direction and shock has me frozen in place as it connects with the wall. Mere centimeters from my face.

  Without meaning to, I let out a yelp. But there is nowhere for me to run, his arms are caging me in on either side.

  I’ve seen him angry and unreasonable, but the darkness in his eyes and the deep shade of red his face is turning are dead giveaways that things are different this time. That I should be terrified.

  Instead, I still try to fix it. Fix him.

  “Erik,” Reaching up between us I bring my hand to his cheek. “I promise, I didn’t talk to him. I-”

  I don’t get to finish what I was about to say before he grabs ahold of my wrist, jerking my hand away from his face. Pain shoots down my arm as he tightens his grip.

  “Don’t touch me, you whore!” He screams into my face and yanks me around by my wrist until I’m tripping over my own feet.

  “Erik!” I yell, hoping to snap him out of whatever this is. Only, it has the opposite effect, enraging him further.

  He grips both of my wrists, hard. So hard that it feels like my bones might snap at any moment. Then he throws me down to the floor. He’s yelling the entire time, telling me how terrible I am and how this is my fault.

  That I’m making him do this to me.

  I curl into a ball, attempting to shield myself from the kicks and punches that just keep coming. With every strike he tells me I’m worthless.

  I believe him.

  As he leaves me crying on the floor, stepping over me and apologizing as he walks out the door, I believe him then too.

  Standing from the toilet, I brave a look at myself in the mirror. The girl I see staring back is someone I don’t recognize.

  Even now, just minutes after his attack, I can see all the red flags for what they were. All of the escalating behaviors I’ve been ignoring over the last year since leaving UPENN.

  I know that I need to get out, now. He will do this again and again. If I don’t leave tonight, I will never get away.

  I rush to the bed in search of my phone, praying he didn’t take it with him. I pull up the browser and manage to reserve a room at another hotel in the city, using the emergency credit card that my dad gave me when I left for school. Some part of me always knew I would need it, so I kept it hidden in the coin pocket of my wallet.

  I quickly throw all of my things into my suitcases. I throw a hoodie on over my band tee, and head back into the bathroom in hopes of making my face look a little less battered.

  Pulling the hood of my sweatshirt down over my head as far as it will go, I open the door and peek down the hallway. There are people gathered at the other end outside the door of the suite throwing the party.

  Erik likes to have the option of sending me back to our room during parties, so his bandmate Mike hosts them in his room now.
Which works in my favor tonight, I just need to make sure he doesn’t see me heading to the elevator.

  Realizing I have no time to waste, I grab my bags and dart across the hall to the elevator. After pressing the down arrow multiple times in the span of five seconds, I’m relieved to hear the ding of arrival. I roll my bags into the empty elevator and immediately press the close doors button.

  It’s not until I walk through the lobby doors and catch a cab waiting in front of the hotel that I can finally breathe, feeling some of the tension leave my body.

  In the early hours of the next morning, I hear from Erik. He calls at least ten times before giving up and texting.

  Erik: Sawyer, where are you?

  Erik: I’m sorry baby.

  Erik: I promise that will never happen again. I just lost my temper.

  I knew this would happen, that’s why I’d prepared myself for it all night. So instead of replying, I gather the nerve to call Knox, my big brother.

  “Hello? Sawyer?” Hearing his voice breaks me.

  “Knox.”

  “Where are you?” he asks.

  “San Diego. Erik… we had a big fight, he…it was…it got physical. So, I left.”

  I try to sugarcoat it because I’m not ready to tell him everything yet.

  “What?” The word comes out with seething anger.

  “I’ll answer your questions later. Can you come get me? I’m using the emergency card Dad gave me to stay at a different hotel. It won’t be long before he sees the charges and starts his own interrogation. I’m not ready for that, Knox.”

  “I’ll be there first thing in the morning. But I’ll have to tell him.” I release the breath I’ve been holding, waiting. Relieved he’ll be coming and resigned to the fact my dad has to know.

  “I know. Just ask him to give me some time. Please.”

  “Will do. See you tomorrow. Text me where you’re staying.”

  “Thank you, big brother.”

  After ending the call, I set my phone on the bed. Then before I can think better of it, I send him a warning text. Because typing it out now will be easier than trying to explain it to an angry Knox later.

  Me: Fair warning. I look rough. Don’t freak out when you see me.

  He tries calling multiple times, but I don’t answer. I’m not ready for him to know that his sister isn’t as strong as she thought she was. That she managed to get herself into this kind of situation.

  Apparently, my message changed Knox’s level of urgency. He shows up at the hotel later that same night instead of the next morning. It’s a welcome surprise, because there’s a part of me, a very weak part of me that wants to call Erik. That already misses him.

  But with Knox here as a reminder of the life Erik cut me off from, I feel just the slightest bit stronger than before.

  “I want to take you to a hospital. You look terrible.”

  “When was the last time you looked in the mirror?” I ask, taking in the dark circles, messy hair, and rumpled suit topped off by the whiskey breath.

  “It was a long flight.” His eyes dart to the ground when he answers, revealing that he’s lying.

  I nod instead of pushing. Because if I push him, he pushes me.

  “I’m fine, really.” I go in for a hug, craving touch that doesn’t hurt. Only it does hurt, and I can’t hide the whimper that escapes when he holds me tightly to him.

  Knox releases me and pulls away abruptly. “We are going to the hospital, now.”

  There is no fight left in me. So, with tears in my eyes, I grab my sweater form the back of the chair and follow Knox out the door.

  In the cab on the way back from the hospital, Knox tries to distract me by telling me about the mess that is his own life.

  “How could she do this to me? How could she lie about being pregnant with my baby while being with him of all people?” He's ranting, and I let him.

  Everly Cooper has never been on the list of my favorite people, that's for sure. But this, this takes things to a new level. She and my brother had a one-night stand, weekend, or whatever after Wren and Charlotte’s wedding that I went home for about five months ago, and she got pregnant.

  It turns out, after telling my brother the news, she decided to lie and said it was a false positive. Then he finally runs into her after all this time and sees that she is very much pregnant with his baby and apparently playing house with her ex, Wyatt.

  “She’s twenty weeks, and it’s a girl.” Knox is staring out the window when he mutters the words. I almost missed them.

  Watching his hand clench and unclench on the seat next to him, I rest my hand on his shoulder in a move of support. He doesn’t need my words right now, just like I don’t need his. Dropping my head back on the seat, I think about the emergency room visit and the nurse who tried to pressure me into filing a police report about the abuse.

  I was completely honest about my injuries being the result of domestic abuse. I wanted it to be documented in my file but have no intentions on filing an official report or pressing charges. Knox is here to take me home, and I don’t plan on having anything to do with Erik or California ever again.

  Our flights are scheduled for late tomorrow afternoon, but Knox is able to move them to the late morning instead. When we get back to the hotel, we both try to get some rest before what is sure to be a long day tomorrow.

  Seeing the disappointment on my parents’ face is one of the last things I want, but I know they deserve to see me after all these months. After running off and ruining the future my dad helped me work so hard to secure.

  All our dreams, any chance at the Olympics... gone.

  I toss and turn through the night, my body feeling sore and soul feeling broken. Finally, when I see the faintest sign of light shining through the windows, I get up from the bed and tiptoe to the kitchen.

  “Thank goodness. I wasn't sure how much longer I could just lay there.” Knox sits up from his place on the couch, causing me to jump at the sight of him and sound of his voice.

  “Jeez, Knox. You scared me half to death.” I close the distance between us, whacking him on the arm.

  He just laughs, “I'm sorry. I just can't sleep.”

  “Same. Want some coffee?” I ask, walking to the coffee maker.

  “Yes, please.” He stretches, and I feel bad that he had to cram himself onto the tiny couch, but he'd insisted that I keep the bed.

  Once we have our coffee, finish packing our bags, and check out of the hotel, we head for the airport. It's been a while since I've been home to North Carolina. Even longer since I've had any intention of staying.

  My phone starts buzzing in my pocket, and I know without even looking that it's him. A knot forms in my stomach, thinking about how angry he must have been to come back and find me gone.

  I can’t help but wonder where he’s been staying the last two nights and who he’s been staying with.

  I don’t pull my phone out of my pocket, and when the buzzing stops, it takes seconds for it to start up again. And again. Over and over, the entire drive to the airport.

  I remain strong. Knowing that if Knox finds out, he might think better of getting on the plane and go in search of Erik instead.

  The flight is long, but not long enough.

  Thankfully, Knox talked our parents out of meeting us at the airport. I think he was worried that I would just hop on another plane and leave if that were the case. And honestly, I'm still kind of thinking about it. But I couldn't do that to my parents again.

  We grab our bags, find Knox's car, and head home. To my parents. I recite the story in my head, trying to find a way to tell it where I'm not the victim. Or where Erik doesn't seem like such a bad guy. I don't want my parents to look at me with pity and sadness. Some messed up part of me doesn't want them to hate Erik.

  When Knox pulls his car down their drive, I feel like I'm going to puke. I don’t want to be here. As if he can sense my urge to flee, Knox rests his hand on my knee. “Sawyer, it’s going to be
okay. They love you and will just be happy to see you.”

  “They are going to have so many questions.”

  He puts the car in park. “You don’t have to give them all of the answers right now.”

  I nod my head, “Can I go home with you? Will Sasha mind?”

  He laughs, but there is no humor in it. “You can come home with me, and Sasha won’t be a problem.”

  Interesting. I will have to ask more questions about that later. Something tells me he doesn’t want to talk about it though.

  Entering the house feels like walking the green mile.

  We walk through the house and find our parents waiting in the living room. Mom is up on her feet as soon as she sees me, pulling me into a gentle hug. I have to wonder if Knox warned her, or if her mom senses are just that strong.

  “How are you feeling? Is there anything I can get for you? Anything you need at all?” She peppers me with questions, holding me at arm’s length, examining my face. “He did this to you.” It’s a statement, not a question.

  My dad stands by my mother’s side, and the look on his face is murderous. I find myself taking a step back, which causes horror to pass across his face, but I almost miss it as he turns and leaves the room. Feeling defeated, I plop down on the couch with my head in my hands. It takes everything I have to hold back the tears I feel pooling in my eyes.

  The couch dips with my mom’s weight when she sits next to me, rubbing my back like she used to when I was little and went into their room after having a nightmare. Only this isn’t a nightmare. It’s my life.

  “I’m going to stay with Knox. Right now, I need some time to sort through this,” I tell her, without removing my hands from my face. They are the barrier that I need between us. But it isn’t her voice that answers me.

  “Can you answer one question before you go?” I can hear the strain in his voice. My dad is barely holding in his rage, but he is trying his hardest. For me.

  I lift my head, dropping my hands down to my sides. “Okay.”