The Night That Changed Rachel (The Randalls Book 2) Read online

  The Night That Changed Rachel

  Copyright © 2020 by Gail Haris and Gail Haris, LLC

  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 other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the authors’ imaginations. Any resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Editor: Holly Ingram, Holly Ingraham Editorial

  Editor and Proofreader: Rebecca, Fairest Reviews Proofreading Services

  Proofreader: Jade Anderson, Footnotes Book Solutions

  Photo Credit and Cover Design: Rocio at Cosmic Earth Book Covers

  Cover Model: Paraskevi Panousis

  Formatted by: Stacey Blake, Champagne Book Design

  Blurb: Stacey Rourke, The Blurb Doctor

  TRIGGER WARNING—The Night That Changed Rachel is a coming of age story that contains adult situations and briefly deals with Postpartum Depression.

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Other Books by Gail Haris

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  To all the amazing women out there who continue to power through the dark days and support others. Thank you!

  Don’t let me go. Please. It’s not too late. Come back with us. I’m not ready… I’m crumbling before everyone’s eyes, but they can’t see it. I hide behind my smile, while holding tight to my anchor that I’m about to lose for the summer.

  Alice wraps her arms around me. “This is goodbye, only until you’re back here at the end of summer.”

  “Ha. If I can pull this off.” I still have to complete summer school to graduate a whole year early. Honestly, I’m surprised I’ve pushed myself this far. The school work is not what I’m nervous about, it’s not knowing how many more days I can walk those halls, before I lose my mind.

  I’ve tagged along with the Randall family to help move Alice in to the dorms. She’s moving in early, despite Melissa’s guilt trips. I don’t blame Melissa, really. Alice Randall had been kidnapped when she was a baby, and it was only last year that her family got her back. Then, her youngest son, Landon Randall, who was my best friend, only recently passed away in a tragic accident. I don’t blame the woman for wanting to hang on to her daughter for a little while longer. At this point, I’m not sure if I ever want to have kids. I already know the heartache of losing a best friend and an unrequited love; I don’t think I could handle any more.

  Melissa stares at Alice with teary eyes. “How soon will you come home to visit?”

  “Next weekend?”

  They both laugh and hug. Melissa squeezes Alice against her, so tightly, that I see the veins in her arms popping out. “Tomorrow would be even better.”

  Denise, the youngest Randall, rolls her eyes. “Gah. No way would I be going back to Lumberton. Did you see the biceps on the guys who helped us carry Alice’s stuff up? Noah has competition.”

  Alice frowns and crosses her arms. “Hardly.”

  Denise mocks her. “Hardly.” She’s so immature. “How could I forget? Noah is perfect.”

  I try to lighten the mood. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  Richard chuckles. “Has anyone heard from Trent yet?”

  Denise grumbles, “how come he got out of helping move?”

  Melissa wraps an arm around Denise. “He’s helping out at the hospital. We didn’t want to bother him. But he did offer.”

  I step out of the room and check out the activity board in the hallway. While I’m reading all the exciting information about sororities, clubs, movie nights, and, basically, all the opportunities for me to have a new life when I come here, the elevator rings, and I hear the doors sliding open. I look over and inwardly groan.

  “Rachel.” Maggie Tyson struts toward me.

  “I came to help Alice.” I raise my chin and try to put on my best bitch face. She’s a head taller than me, but I refuse to allow her to look down at me.

  She nods her head toward the dorm door. “Are you still planning to enroll here in the fall?”

  I nod and look over at the open door. I guess nobody has heard the ‘oh mighty and bitchtacular’ Maggie’s arrival. She’s a brunette like me, but her hair is darker, shinier, and seems to always fall perfectly around her face. I self-consciously tuck a loose strand, that’s fallen from my messy bun, behind my ear. While I’m standing here in jean shorts and a Pink Floyd shirt, she’s in fitted beige pants and a white button up. The top button is undone, revealing her perfect sun-kissed skin. Maggie has a face that deserves to be on the cover of a magazine; it’s gorgeous like Trent’s. Her voice is typically sweet and soft, unless she’s speaking to me. Then, it turns cold and sharp.

  “Trent and I are going through something. Has he mentioned anything? I know you’re like a sister to him.”

  “No.”

  “I’m sure we’ll work it out. We always do. I’m far from being out of the picture.”

  I stumble back and stare at her wide-eyed. “Maggie, I don’t understand.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Of course you don’t.”

  I flinch, and then hate myself for letting her words sting. Granted, Maggie has every right to hate me. I did sleep with Trent, not that she knows that. It was after Landon’s funeral, and we were both grieving. Where was she? They broke up after his brother died. How could she not still be there for him? I was there for him, and he was there for me. I purse my lips and try to school my features. As I struggle to find my backbone, the elevator dings. I look over to see a group of girls step out. And followed behind them is Trent. Gorgeous, perfect, God’s gift to everybody with a pulse, Trent Randall. His jet-black hair is disheveled, and he’s still wearing blue scrubs. That sculpted, strong jaw hardens when he sees us. Not sure if his eyes just turned ice blue over her or me—maybe both. Those gorgeous semi-full lips go paper thin as he walks toward us.

  “Maggie,” he clips. I look between them. She smiles sweetly. How does she do that? She disguises herself so well.

  “Trent, honey, you didn’t return my call, and I saw Alice moving in. I just came to say hello.”

  Add stalker to her resume. This is not a conversation I need to be here for. I slide along the wall past Trent to avoid touching him. The smell of clean aftershave, expensive cologne, and sandalwood assault my nose. I clench my teeth and hold my breath. I ease back in the dorm room and bump into Denise. Melissa is still holding on to Alice, while Richard gently
tries to pry her loose.

  “Did I hear Trent?” Richard asks.

  Denise answers in a bored voice. “He’s in the hallway with Maggie.”

  Melissa perks up. “Maggie and Trent are here?”

  “Let’s go see them!” Alice practically sings as she eases out of Melissa’s hold.

  They all think Maggie is perfect, and she does look it, but she doesn’t deserve Trent. She’s a royal bitch who does a marvelous job hiding her true colors. Trent has covered for her with his family. Making excuses for her absence during Landon’s funeral and keeping their breakup low key. I won’t forget his tears after their phone conversation the night Landon died. The pain in his voice at how she wouldn’t be there for him and was too busy to ‘deal with this.’ I witnessed the pain in his eyes and held his strong body as it broke down over losing his brother. There’s nothing she can do or say now for me to ever see her as anything other than a selfish cold-hearted bitch.

  Trent’s broad shoulders practically fill the door frame. “There’s our college girl.” He smiles those pearly whites that are perfectly straight. His teeth are slightly large, but they work for him. When he flashes a crooked smile and his dimple shows, I turn to goo.

  Melissa rushes up to him and takes his face in her hands. After she kisses him on each cheek, she peaks her head around him. “Where’s Maggie?”

  Trent walks over to Alice and hugs her. “She had to run, but she said to tell you hi.”

  His eyes find mine, and I can’t look away. I swallow and slowly follow the family out the door while he holds the door open. As I walk by, I feel the feather light touch of his fingers swipe across my wrist. It was so light and subtle, I almost wonder if I imagined it. But the sparks shooting through me is evident that Trent Randall touched me. Only his touch can get that reaction from my body. Unfortunately, I need to make sure he doesn’t do it again. I’m barely hanging on by a thread, and he is the one person who can unravel me.

  Two months later…

  “Shots! Shots! Shots!”

  Chanting erupts all around me. The liquid burns as it makes its way down my throat, but I keep tilting my head farther back. I slam the glass on the picnic table and tightly squeeze my eyes shut, trying to recover from the burning sensation. Then I open them and lift my arms into the air. “WHOO-HOO!”

  It’s humid and hot out, which isn’t uncommon for the end of July in Missouri. My skin feels sticky, and my tank top feels glued to me.

  “Thatta girl, Rach!” Eric cheers. He may be one of the school’s biggest jerks, but he always throws the best parties. Everyone cheers with him. I look around the bonfire at all the glassy eyes, flushed cheeks, and wide smiles. Not a single friend among them. We’re partying now, but when the party is over, so is this camaraderie.

  “I can’t believe you freakin’ graduated!” Tiffany, who, at one time, I considered a friend, leans against me. We’d sat together at lunch all through school and had been on the cheer squad since middle school. Shopping trips and sleepovers. I didn’t realize how fake our friendship was, until I lost my one and only real friend. She tilts her head up at me and smiles through her drunken haze. “Gah, you’re so smart. Who knew?”

  I bite my tongue for a moment. I’ve been getting this a lot. Who would think the pretty cheerleader actually has a brain? I even get blond jokes, and I’m not a blond. I have blond highlights, so I guess that’s all they need for a greenlight on blond jokes.

  Using the side of the wooden deck, I balance myself as Tiffany’s weight becomes heavy against me. “I’m going to miss you. What are we going to do without you? We could’ve won nationals.”

  “You’ll for sure get cheer captain with me gone at least.” That gets her off of me and seems to sober her up a little. I wink and smile at her wide-eyed and open-mouth expression. I reach over to the makeshift bar on the picnic table and grab another shot glass.

  “Bitch!” she gasps at me, as I maintain eye contact with her, while I take another shot. Then she smiles. “But you’re right.”

  I give a one-shoulder shrug and go back to scanning the yard. I know just about everyone here tonight. Everyone is dressed either in swimwear or tanks and shorts. I’m in cut-off jean shorts and a green spaghetti strap tank. My brown hair with blond highlights (not all blond) is piled on top of my head in a messy bun. It’s too hot to wear it down, which is one of the reasons why, for the life of me, I can’t figure out why we have a bonfire going in this heat, but it’s a party, so I try to go with the flow. All of my classmates are excited for their senior year. I won’t be joining them at Lumberton High School. I can’t. I can’t spend my senior year without Landon Randall. The memories those hallways hold is too much for me. I busted my ass, last spring and this summer, to graduate early and enroll as a college freshman in Lexington, which is an hour and a half away.

  I bulldozed Alice into taking me in as her roommate, and allowing me to tag along. We’ve barely known each other a year, but we’re both on a journey now to learn who we are. I feel like I don’t know who I am without Landon by my side. Most likely, that’s why she agreed to be my roommate. I just didn’t know what else to do. All I knew was that I was not spending another day, more than necessary, without Landon in that school, much less a whole year. I couldn’t get out of that high school soon enough. Landon Randall’s memory is everywhere. I can still hear his infectious laughter in the hallways, his track jersey is hung up in the trophy case, nobody wants to sit in his spot in the cafeteria, and they have flowers in his parking spot. I’m angry with everyone at that school. I’m angry with the town. I’m angry with the world. I’m angry with myself. I’m just angry. I’m hoping that escaping to college will give me a chance to breathe and find some sort of peace with everything. Luckily, I’d already been taking advanced courses earlier in my high school career, so that I could have an easy senior year. Additionally, I tacked on an after-school program to my schedule and applied for early graduation. With no scholarship options for college, I’m now up to my eyeballs in student loan debt, and I’m taking college courses. Please God, let this work and do not let me fail.

  My phone buzzes in my back pocket. Reaching back, I pull it out and glance down at the screen.

  Trent: U need 2 slow down

  What the hell?

  Of all people to text me right now, I do not need it to be Trent Randall. Not tonight.

  I’m in too much of an emotional state. Trent is my deceased best friend, Landon’s older brother. He’s also my biggest weakness. I’ve been so in love with Trent since elementary school that I’m practically obsessed with him. However, Trent doesn’t return my feelings. He’s always worried that he’s too old for me and would come between my friendship with his brother. Well, his brother is gone, and I’m close to turning eighteen, so I’ll be legal.

  Unfortunately, when his brother passed away, it shattered me. I don’t even know if I’m the same girl anymore. I just feel…broken.

  I quickly glance around. It’s nighttime, but with the bonfire and the pool and back porch lights on, it’s definitely bright enough to see. Maybe he’s inside the house? Where the hell is he?

  I should be excited and proud of myself. I really accomplished something graduating high school early with a high GPA and getting accepted, on late admission, into a big university. But I’m not. My parents are more excited that I’m moving out early. The one person who I’d be celebrating with is the main reason I’m leaving. If he was alive, I wouldn’t be doing this. And if he was alive, he would be the life of this party, and I would actually be happy and celebrating.

  But he’s not. And I’m not.

  Instead, his older brother is, apparently, lurking around and judging me. No surprise there. The golden boy is probably frowning upon my underage drinking. Just to piss him off further, I slide the bottle of vodka toward me and pour some in my shot glass. I scoff, before I tip the glass back, allowing the warm liquid to burn my throat again. The thought of our first time comes to mind. It was at a
party about like this one. We were both tipsy, and I was definitely underage then.

  I tell myself I don’t care where he is, or that he is even here. My heart rate didn’t just pick up because Trent Randall is in the same vicinity as me. Watching me. We made some mistakes. No, I made those mistakes. I know he’s never going to be with me, but I keep allowing myself to fall for him. I practically throw myself at him anytime he so much as looks my way. I’ve given him everything I can from my virginity to my pride. I’ve lost all dignity—it’s not been a secret that I’ve been obsessed with Trent for some time. I’ve never had a real relationship because the Randall boys have always shared my heart. When Luke Jamerson and Landon Randall got into a drunken fight, one half of my heart went over that bridge with them. The other half of my heart turned to stone when Trent told me that we wouldn’t work, despite how much he cares about me. Cares. He cares for me. I care for the people at this party. But Trent, I love. I wanted him to say he loves me.

  I’m tired of loving him only to be hurt. Even if he doesn’t mean to intentionally, he’s the one person who has the power to make my heart beat or crush it in his hands. I’ve lost too much. I can’t risk losing any more of myself. Maybe this change of scenery will be a new opportunity for me to discover myself. Then maybe I can discover what it’s like to open your heart to someone without the fear of them ripping it out.

  I’m about to embark on a new chapter in my life. No, a new book. And in this book, there’s no Trent Randall as the hero. I’ve closed that version.

  I look around again, and still don’t see him. I should ignore him, or better yet, leave. I’m not even enjoying myself. But despite my better judgement, I reply to the text.

  Me: What corner are you lurking in?

  “I don’t lurk.” A low voice whispers in my ear.

  “Jesus!” I spin around. I’m pinned between the counter and Trent Randall’s stupid muscular chest. “What the hell do you call that? You creeped up on me while you were lurking around.”

  “Oh yeah? Pretty sure you’re just drunk and unaware of your surroundings, which is very dangerous, by the way.”