Baby Girl Read online

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Front Matter

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Signup for my Newsletter

  Author's Note

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Back Matter

  Groupie Cover

  All for 1 Cover

  Beautiful Survivor's Cover

  Hard Rock Roots Box Set Cover

  Step Brother Inked Cover

  Step Brother Inked Prologue

  Keep Up With The Fun

  More Books By C.M. Stunich

  About the Author

  WARNING: Don't open this story unless you're prepared to ugly cry, but also ready to witness a story of hope and new love, a love that was there all along, just waiting to turn from a whisper … to a shout.

  Baby Girl

  Baby Girl © C.M. Stunich 2018

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  The For information address Sarian Royal Indie Publishing, 89365 Old Mohawk Rd, Springfield, OR 97478.

  www.cmstunich.com

  Cover art and design © Amanda Carroll and Sarian Royal

  The The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, businesses, or locales is coincidental and is not intended by the author.

  this one is dedicated to Dollie.

  rock on, girl.

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  Author's Note

  Greetings, Dear Readers!

  Thank you for picking up this book! New adult and romantic suspense are some of my favorite genres to write, and I’m excited to be able to showcase them both in this stand-alone story of love, loss, and new beginnings—with a little action thrown in there, of course.

  This one starts off with an ugly-cry worthy prologue, and then dives into the thick of the story. Be prepared for grief, but also cursing, graphic fight scenes between underground MMA fighters, and several steamy scenes. Don’t worry though: it **mini-spoiler** all gets wrapped up in a happily ever after!

  I hope you enjoy Phoenix Benoit and Embry LeBlanc’s story as much as I do. Just, don’t stay up too late reading, okay? ;)

  Love, C.M. Stunich (aka Violet Blaze)

  Something is wrong.

  I know it; I just can't put my finger on what or why. My best friend, Phoenix Benoit, glances my way with his brow raised, pale blonde hair catching the golden rays of the dying sun. We're standing in the front yard, off to the side of my parents' cars so my mom doesn't catch him smoking. She never says anything when she sees Phoenix with a smoke between his full lips, but that woman knows how to send out waves of disappointment without even opening her mouth.

  “Codrick should be here already,” I say as I cross my arms over the shimmery pink of my mermaid dress. “He's been waiting for this night like a kid at Christmas. He's more excited about prom than I am.” Glancing over my shoulder I check to see if my mother's peeking at us out the window. When I see that she's not, I turn back to Phoenix, pluck the cigarette from his fingertips and take a long drag.

  He smirks at me, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. For an eighteen year old, he's seriously ripped, much bigger than my fiancé, Codrick Landry. Since Phoenix lives in the bayou with his dad, we always joke that here must be something in that swamp water that's bulking him up. He's like the friggin' Hulk.

  “He'll be here, mouche a mielle,” he grumbles, his voice thick and heavy, almost like a purr. And with that Cajun accent of his? No wonder the girls at school are all over him. They have been for years, since junior high really. It took me and Codrick ages to get him to actually go out with someone. Yet, despite our pushing, he still doesn't have a date to prom. Instead, we're going as a group of three.

  Doesn't bother me. My sisters have been teasing me mercilessly about it, but Codrick is the love of my life and Phoenix is our best friend, has been since we were kids. Hell, I'd marry them both if I could.

  My mouth twitches and I laugh at the same time I cough. I don't smoke much and holy crap, my lungs are burning.

  “What you thinkin' about over there, you?” Phoenix asks, dressed in a sharp black suit. It sits nicely against his sun-kissed skin, an intriguing dichotomy of rough-and-tumble bad boy mixed with the clean professional lines of his clothing.

  “Nothing,” I say, passing back the smoke. My fingers tangle with Phoenix's, but I'm too distracted by the fact that Codrick isn't here to pay much attention to the strange sort of spark that happens between us when we touch. I've always felt that with Codrick, always. From moment one, I knew he was meant to be mine. And Phoenix … I love Phoenix like nobody else in my life except for Rick. The Three Musketeers, that's what we are. They're my family before family, really. I know sure as shit that I like these two men more than I like my own sisters.

  To be fair, my sisters are bitchy as hell.

  “He wouldn't miss this for the world, no,” Phoenix whispers, his eyes focused on the empty field across the street from my parents' place. There used to be a trailer park there, but it burned down and nobody bothered to come back. My parents were smart—when firefighters were still damping out the flames, they put in an offer on this lot and got it for pennies on the dollar.

  Now, there's a glorious empty field, the grasses bathed golden in the strange gray-orange light of the stormy afternoon sunshine. The edge of the property dips into marshy water that then morphs into an old cypress forest. It's one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen.

  “Should I text him?” I ask, but I always try not to bother Codrick when he's driving. He has a tendency to check his messages and I don't want him to crash. I told him he's not allowed to die until we're old and gray; almost everyone thinks we're idiots for getting engaged in high school, and I want to prove them all wrong.

  “He said he was stopping to get flowers,” Phoenix says, pulling his phone from his pocket and flashing the screen in my direction. “I bet he stuck at the florist, that couyon. He lets everyone and their Maw-Maw talk his ear off.”

  “He's getting flowers?” I ask, feeling my cheeks flush. As soon as Phoenix sees the color pink up my cheeks, he grins, big white teeth in a handsome face.

  “You can't be that surprised, bumblebee,” he says, using the nickname mouche a mielle in English this time. “Dat boy would do anything for you.” He rises to his feet, this gentle giant with huge biceps and a wide chest. You haven't really lived until you've gotten a hug from Phoenix Avit Benoit. “Let's go get his ass. If we pass him on the way there, he'll see us.”

  Phoenix gestures over at his bike with his chin, just as tiny droplets of rain begin to fall.

  Damn it.

  My hair is shellacked to high hell, scraped back and twisted in all these fancy curls. If my mom or my sisters find out I've climbed on the back of some boy's bike in my prom dress, they'll freak.

  Hmm.

  But screw it.

  This is my night, not theirs. I
let them dress me up, but there's nothing in the world like feeling the wind on my face, my arms wrapped around my best friend's waist, my cheek pressed against his back …

  “I'll drive careful, me,” he says, passing over a helmet and a leather jacket.

  And well, fuck it. My heart is racing, and that awful feeling sitting my stomach is making me sick. I just want to find Codrick and get to the dance so I can relax a little.

  Phoenix helps me slip into the jacket and then plops the helmet on my head, tucking strands of dark hair inside it.

  “Hold on tight, Embry,” he tells me with a wink, and then I'm hopping on the back of a motorcycle, my pink dress whipping in the wind behind us as big fat drops begin to fall, spattering against the helmet and making me feel so … alive.

  Too bad that feeling doesn't last.

  The drive into town isn't far, but it's already late, the velvety fingers of darkness tracing across the sky as the rain comes down and soaks me and Phoenix both. And shit, is it cold. But holy crap, Phoenix is warm.

  I cling to him as we speed down the quiet country road. We don't pass any other vehicles; not a lot of people live out here and the ones that do are probably already home from work.

  Ten minutes down the road, I see headlights, crooked headlights.

  That awful feeling in my gut twists and writhes like a snake.

  “Pull over!” I scream, but Phoenix is way ahead of me, moving his bike across the empty lane and over to the side of the road. I'm off and stumbling before he even shuts his motorcycle off, tripping on my dress as I make my way toward the car.

  The headlights are so bright, they sting my eyes and make me squint, but even with the hot glare bathing me, I can see that this car … it's upside down.

  It's not Codrick, I tell myself as I get closer. It's not because it can't be.

  It can't be.

  I'll die.

  I'll fucking die.

  But as soon as I step out of the headlight beams, I see the cherry red paint of Codrick's Toyota Corolla and my heart explodes inside my chest, pieces splattering against my ribs as I tear off the helmet and toss it aside.

  I drop to my knees in the gravel, not caring that bits and pieces dig into the thin, wet material of my dress and stab me. Falling forward, I lean my cheek against the ground to peer inside … and my entire world comes to a horrific end.

  “Rick?” I choke out as Phoenix slides to the ground next to me, shouting something that I can't hear. The rain … disappears. The cold. The ticking, steaming sound of the engine. Emotion chokes up my throat just before a white-cold wave of shock sweeps over me. “Rick?”

  Reaching out a trembling hand, I touch the bloody side of his cheek as Phoenix reaches in and tries to unhook him from his seat belt. He's upside down, Codrick is, just hanging there in limp silence. There are rose petals all over the car and as Phoenix gets him unhooked and drags him out, I see those glassy brown eyes looking into mine and I know that this is a moment I will never forget.

  It's a defining tragedy.

  A wound that will never heal.

  It's a nightmare.

  No, no, more than just a nightmare … because it's one I'll never wake up from.

  Phoenix drags our best friend, my love, my fiancé, my soul mate, out of the car and lays him on his back, checking for a pulse with shaking fingers. As rain spatters us and I sit up, dressed in pink sequins with my hair plastered to the sides of my face, I see the roses clutched in Codrick's hand.

  Red roses.

  As red as his blood.

  No.

  No, this isn't how our love story ends.

  It was just beginning.

  This is our beginning.

  Turning to the side, I throw up the bit of sweet tea I drank earlier. I was too excited, too nervous to eat anything today, so not much comes up, but my stomach tightens and squeezes, making me puke until it's bile and saliva that comes up.

  I love you, Baby Girl.

  That's the last text I got from Codrick. Please don't let it be the last words we ever exchange. Please, please, please.

  Turning back to Phoenix, I see this look on his face, this broken, haunted sort of look that turns him into a stranger. I don't even recognize this man in front of me. Who is he?! Who the fuck is this ghost of a human being?!

  “I gotta grab my phone, Baby Girl,” Phoenix chokes out, reaching out for my arm. I jerk away from him and look down at Codrick. He's bleeding and Phoenix isn't giving him CPR. Why isn't he giving him CPR?!

  “Make him breathe!” I scream and Phoenix closes his eyes tight for a moment, shrouding the pain in his gray irises before he opens them back up and looks at me across the still, bloody form of Codrick's body. Droplets of rainwater are falling into his glassy eyes as they stare up at the sky.

  That must hurt, I think as I reach out and pull them closed.

  “Do the chest compressions,” I tell Phoenix, leaning forward, but he reaches out with both hands and grabs my upper arms. His touch is firm but gentle at the same time. He shakes me a little and meets my eyes.

  “He's dead, honey,” he chokes out and I swear to God, I feel those words like a spear through the chest. “He already gone. I gotta get my phone; you come wit' me.”

  “He isn't dead!” I scream, tearing myself from Phoenix's grip and leaning down over Codrick, putting my ear to his chest the way I've done so many times before, listening to the gentle soothing beat of his heart, the comforting up and down of his breathing. “He isn't dead,” I groan, repeating those words inside my head a hundred times over.

  He isn't dead; he isn't dead; he isn't dead.

  See, Codrick can't be dead because if he's dead then … I'll die, too. I'll die and Phoenix will die, and everything will fall apart.

  “Oh God,” Phoenix says as I hold Codrick's body close and listen to the horrible silence. Even through the pouring rain, I can tell he's not breathing. He's not breathing. He's not fucking breathing. “C'mere, Baby Girl,” he whispers, reaching down for me.

  Automatically, I slap his hand away and cuddle closer to my soul mate's body.

  I stay there with my eyes closed, shielding him from the rain, praying that I'll wake up sometime soon, that I'll find myself under the covers with Rick behind me, his naked body pressing hot and hard against mine.

  Because he's always hot, never cold. And right now, he feels cold. That's how I know this can't be real.

  Phoenix stumbles back over and falls to his knees next to me. I glance up and realize that he has my cell instead of his own.

  Oh, isn't it lucky I got the waterproof phone? I think absently, feeling like I'm swaying even though I'm staying still. He must be using my phone instead of his because of the rain. What a smart choice. That's a smart, smart choice.

  My best friend makes a call with shaking fingers, but I can't hear what he's saying. I can't hear anything but the beat of my own heart inside my head. Blood sloshes between my ears, making me deaf to the world. How funny this story will be when I'm sitting beside Codrick in his hospital bed, stroking my fingertips over the back of his hand. We'll laugh about how I couldn't hear anything at all, how Phoenix had to call an ambulance because I fell apart.

  And oh, wow, how I always thought I'd prevail in the face of tragedy.

  How silly, that I should fall apart.

  Isn't that funny?

  It's funny, right? So fucking funny.

  I start laughing as I sit up and Phoenix freezes, staring at me with eyes so wide they look like Codrick's did before I closed them. I laugh and laugh and laugh, and then when Phoenix grabs me and holds me close, those laughs turn into sobs.

  My fingers find Codrick's hand and close around his still, cold fingers, knocking the roses aside and scattering more petals.

  Phoenix … is warm in all the places that Codrick is now cold.

  A wail escapes my throat as I bury my head under Phoenix's chin and scream.

  By the time the ambulance arrives … my throat is shredded and raw.


  And so is my heart.

  My pillow is stained with tears and my eyes feel like sandpaper. For days—I'm not sure how many—I've laid here and cried. My parents have come and gone; my sisters stay away. Phoenix is an eternal presence, sometimes sitting in the chair in the corner, sometimes cuddling up against my back and making me feel for a moment like Codrick is right here with me.

  There are these moments, few and far between, where I wake up and for an agonizingly short period of time, I forget that Codrick is dead. My jumbled mind tells me it's him in my bed, creating that indent behind me, one arm thrown over my body and holding me close. And oh, God, the sound of that heartbeat, that rhythmically perfect heartbeat. The sound of it touches me in deep places, making me smile before … I start to cry again.

  Because as soon as the bubble of sleep breaks and the reality sets in, it's like Codrick is dead all over again.

  I'm wrapped in the hoodie Phoenix slipped over my head … two days ago … three? I can't remember. I don't know how long it's been since … fuck. As soon as we got back to the house, I tore my wet and bloody dress off, balled in up and shoved it into the sink, dressed only in black lingerie and hyperventilating until I thought I might pass out.

  And then there Phoenix was, giving me a hoodie that smells like him, and sweats that smell like him … and yet all I want to do is lie here with one of Codrick's shirt pressed to my face.

  “I want to die,” I tell Phoenix. It takes him a moment to stir, early morning sunshine peeking in through the window. Now that I'm more alert, I've just remembered that the funeral is today.

  The funeral.

  Codrick's funeral.

  Lifting my hand up, I examine the small diamond ring he gave me. It's an inexpensive cut, but I don't care. I've never cared about anything like that. The only thing I ever cared about was Codrick, and now he's gone.

  I'll have to life a whole life without him. The only way I can even think to make that thought less painful is to make the life I live shorter.

  “Don't talk like dat,” Phoenix says, burying his face in my hair. I haven't seen him cry since he was ten years old, and yet … over the last few days, I've had these horrific moments where I lie awake and listen to him weep softly from the chair. “You too good for this world.” He reaches over and swipes some hair off my forehead.