Prologue - The Catalyst
*Trigger Warning*
This book is rated mature for a reason. Suppose a ton of violence, lots of swearing, and explicit sexual scenes between two consenting adults bother you. In that case, this is not the story for you. There is some non-consensual touching, but no rape, and not from the main love interest.
Disclaimer: All ideas and characters are my own, so please respect my work; no copyrighting is allowed.
Copyright © 2015 @creativemindxo All Rights Reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or any other methods, without the prior written permission of the author/publisher/copyright holder.
This is how I went from broken to fixable while learning the true meaning of living. Beware, it is not always pretty.
I stepped onto the busy New York sidewalk and breathed in the late summer air. The diner had been alive today, but luckily, I could leave early enough to make it to Matt’s apartment before he got home from work. Since our first anniversary, I wanted to set up a special surprise dinner. As I entered his apartment building, my phone started ringing from my best friend, Tamara.
“Hey T, what’s up?” I asked while waving hi to the security guard.
“Hey, Cal, are you at the apartment yet?” Tamara was obsessed with my love life.
“I’m walking upstairs now.” Matt lived in one of those fancier New York apartments he could afford because, apparently, his dad was the boss of some company. Which means he doesn’t have to worry about money. Why is he dating some small-town waitress? I ask myself the same thing.
“What are you going to make? Actually, more important...what are you going to wear?”
“Tamara Jones, boundaries! We talked about this.”
“What? It’s been a year! Don’t act the shy virgin.” I bit my lip from saying anything. “Fine! Deprive me of your sexual escapades, Callie. I’m a lonely single woman living vicariously through my best friend.” Cue the heavy sigh.
“Laying it on a little thick, don’t you think?” She can be more dramatic than a soap opera star.
“Touché.” I’m not sure how you use that word. “Anyhoo, what are you going to make?”
“Gnocchi with tomato sauce. It’s his favorite. I even got the delicious ones from the Italian shop.”
“Just don’t forget to start a fire.”
“It was one freaking time! Who knew that they started wrapping butter in foil?”
“Why were you heating up butter?”
“To soften it?”
“Whatever. Are you in the apartment yet?”
“Almost as soon as I can find my keys.” I dug through my purse while talking to her on my shoulder. “Ah-ha, found them! Okay, I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Tonight, with details.” She never quits.
“No. Goodbye, you dork.” I giggled while shaking my head.
“I hate you right now.”
“Love you too.”
“Yeah, yeah, I love you. Goodbye.” The dial tone signaled she had hung up.
I let myself into his luxurious apartment and unloaded the food items I had brought. I faintly heard a sound coming from the back of the apartment, and my stomach dropped. Please don’t be someone breaking in. Grabbing a wooden spoon, I tiptoed to the bedroom, hoping it was a left-open window or something else. I opened the door and wished it were someone coming to rob me because what I saw would change everything.
