Title: Finding Sam
(A Reliant Love #2)
Author: Taylor
Lavati
Release Day Blitz: September
1, 2015
Genre: New Adult Dark
Romance
Hosted by: S.B.B.
Promotions
Sometimes, the past isn’t
supposed to be forgotten.
Sam is convinced he’s cursed. Everything he
touches dies. He leaves his past behind and travels across the
country, hoping the distance will save the loved ones he’s left. When
his car breaks down, he becomes stranded, finding comfort in a stray
dog.
Despite the fact that he refuses to build
any relationships, the people of Sterling, Colorado wiggle their way
into his heart. His adopted dog, Lucky, shows him he can handle
responsibility. His new boss, Lenny, shows him he has purpose. His
neighbor, Izzy, shows him he’s capable of love again. But can Sam find
happiness after he’s lost it all?
Finding Sam, the sequel to the bestselling
novel of addiction and attraction, A Reliant Love, is a tale of
redemption, acceptance, and finding yourself.
~ Chapter 1 ~
Sam
Ten days without Nathalie. Ten days in a
dark world with no purpose. It’s been ten days too long staying in this empty
town, but I don’t have much of a choice. I had to get my shit together before I
up and left. I think if I would have driven out of town right after the
funeral, they’d have called the cops on me. I have to act normal, pretend I’m
okay, to convince them I’ve moved on.
My black bag sits in the middle of the
empty room, regurgitating piles of dark clothing. It’s the only bag I’ve
allowed myself to pack. Secretly, I’ve been emptying the house. My parents know
it’s on the market, I’ve left it up to them to finish the sale and deal with
it. It’s about the only thing they’ve ever been supportive of—my leaving for
good.
After the funeral, everyone refused to
leave me at home alone. Despite the fact that this is my home, the one place
that still has signs of Nat in it, they infiltrated it with their presence and
hovered.
Today’s the first day I’ve woken up alone.
Oddly enough it’s also the last day I’ll be here. I get up off the bed I used
to share with Nat and shove the clothes into my bag and zip it up. This little
duffle bag is going to be my one possession until I get wherever I’m
heading.
I still haven’t figured that out. The
downstairs kitchen smells like burnt chicken and lemon-scented candles.
Nathalie had been making dinner before she came to pick me up. I refuse to
remove the food or change anything in the house. The movers or my parents can
do it. I don’t need to.
On the kitchen counter sits a brown paper
bag that the hospital gave me. Well, they didn’t give it to me. I hadn’t been
allowed to leave my room yet, the night it all went to shit. They wanted to
make sure that I didn’t have bleeding on my brain so they were forcing me to
spend the night.
Even after my rehab stint, I’d never felt
so helpless, so confined. Petey and Sarah refused to leave my side despite the
fact that I kept lashing out at them. I had just fixed my relationship with
Petey after our falling out from high school. He was able to move past the
tragedy with his sister, Sarah and let me back in his life. Sarah always
forgave me for the accident, but things were looking up. All my relationships
were moving in a positive manner. I remember in the hospital telling Petey what
a terrible person he was, and jabbing Sarah with my words of how she’d be
settling with her fiancé.
Like me pushing them away would make things
better. I hate that I felt the need to assault them with my words. I hate that
I made the already tragic situation worse. But at that moment, I was in shock
and hated everything around me, mostly myself.
But it kept getting worse and worse. Her
parents showed up in about an hour flat. I wasn’t allowed to leave my room, but
I recognized her mom’s voice from what I had heard through the phone numerous
times. The second I heard it, I almost thought it was Nat; my brain playing
tricks on me, teasing me, torturing me. I’d never hear Nat’s voice
again.
The orderly’s packed Nat’s belongings in a
small Ziploc bag. I pick it up off the ground, knowing there’s only one small
item inside. I won’t part ways with it. The last chip of my soul refuses to let
it go. I shove it into the side compartment of my bag and zip it up tight,
double checking to make sure there’s no way it could fall out.
After deciding to leave the East Coast and
place as much mileage between me, and my friends, and family, as possible, I
knew I couldn't ditch the truck. Despite needing the fucking thing gone from my
life forever, I can’t afford to get a new car and have enough left over from
what I’ve saved to live off of.
But first chance I get, it’s gone. It
smells like her. Sugar and flowers.
I’ve been meeting with Karen every day
since the night Nat was stolen from me. I’m not supposed to call it anything
other than an accident, but in my eyes, it could have been prevented. This was
no accident. This was a life-changing moment that will forever affect
me.
I pull my truck into the office parking lot
and cut the ignition. Karen doesn’t work in town—I met her while in rehab two
hours away—but she’s been using one of her colleague’s offices to meet with me.
She said it was important that I had support. She’d met my parents numerous
times and deemed them not responsible to care for me. I can’t blame her. I’d
been in recovery twice and both times, they weren’t around.
There’s always this nagging pulling in my
stomach before I meet with Karen. I know it’s nerves like she’s going to
uncover a deeply-rooted, hidden secret I’m not ready to hear. Not that I think
I have secrets because I don’t. I’m a recovering drug addict who’s followed by
a curse where I hurt those I love. That’s pretty much the bottom line, although
if I said any of that out loud, Karen would scold me for days. Maybe I will say
it today since it’s my last day to meet with her before I leave.
I don’t bother knocking or ringing the
bell. Ten days of the same thing over and over, I’ve become used to the
routine. I walk past the staircase and knock on the door of the office. Karen
yells for me to come in, so I do.
“Hi, Sam!” She smiles at me, flashing her
teeth as she stands behind the desk and reaches over. I take her hand and shake
it. She picks up her green-rimmed glasses and crumbled note pad and walks
around the desk. She sits in an identical chair to mine beside me.
“How are you?” I ask her, crossing my arms
over my chest.
“Fine, how are you today?”
“I’m good.”
“Is that because you’re leaving or because
you genuinely feel good?” She narrows her eyes. That’s the problem with meeting
someone frequently and having them know you; you can’t trick them.
I shrug in response.
“Instead of talking about you today, I
wanted to leave you with some knowledge to help you in the future. I know
hashing out your insecurities is good, and I love seeing you have a break
through. But since you’re leaving, I’m worried you won’t understand the
feelings you are going to experience. So, I’ll give you some information to
help along the steps today. Sound good?” She flips the page of her notebook,
making a crinkling sound as it flies over.
“Whatever you want to do,” I tell her,
because honestly, I couldn’t care less. An hour or two more and I’ll be out of
here. And an hour or two more after that, and I’ll be free from all of this
pressure to be okay.
“I know we touched on the stages of grief
before and I had you guess where you were, so I want to start there. Have you
given it anymore thought?”
“Yeah, I still think it’s stupid. That
chart, those seven feelings don’t really define what I’m feeling. I’ve accepted
that she’s gone, but that doesn’t mean I’m over it. I’m not in shock…I know
she’s gone. I feel her absence on a daily basis. So, I don’t fucking know where
I am.”
“The stages are just a guideline, Sam. I’ve
told you this.”
“I know…and it still doesn’t make it any
easier.”
“Well, I want to go over them again so you
relate to what you’re feeling. I agree that you’re not in the first stage
anymore. The first stage you experienced in the hospital. You refused to see
people, wouldn’t admit she was gone.” I squeeze my fist so tight my knuckles
bloom white. Don’t remember her, I chant to myself, stop thinking of the
hospital. No more memories today.
“The second stage is pain, sometimes guilt.
Your life is going to be chaotic, a little crazy. You’ll feel guilty, kind of
like your curse belief. But it hurts, a lot. The third stage is bargaining.
Here is when you’re going to ask questions like, ‘Why me? Why
her?’. You’ll probably lash out at people, get
frustrated. If you begin to feel this way, try to tamp it down, find something
that will calm you down. You don’t want to push away those around you.
“Let’s see…” She flips another page in her
notebook and shoves the end of the pen in her mouth, chewing the plastic part.
“The next is depression. With your added history of substance abuse, this is
definitely a pronounced concern. It is not a question of if you will experience
depression from this life-changing event, it’s a question of when. And
honestly, Sam, you will need to seek help. Wherever you end up, find a
therapist, give them my number, and have them call me. Depression is a
legitimate disease and you, nobody, should have to live through the loneliness,
despair, emptiness, and unworthiness alone. You understand? You find someone to
help you.” I nod. “Say it.”
“I understand. I’ll get help.”
“Swear it to me. When you end up where you
think you’ll stay, if you feel the signs of depression, you’ll talk to someone.
Please, Sam. You know I care about you. I would hate to see you in the
condition we met in. Okay?”
“Okay, Karen.” I widen my eyes at her
pushiness. “I get it. I can’t do it alone.”
“It’s not that you can’t, Sam. You
shouldn’t have to. You deserve better.” She shakes her head, blinking away
tears. “Okay, after that…you’ll hit the upward spiral. You’ll start feeling
just a little better every day. Then you’ll start to reconstruct your life, fix
things, change things, and move forward. The last stage is acceptance. It’s
pretty self-explanatory. But once you’re here, you’ll see hope in the future,
understanding, and crave the normal.”
“And what? Nathalie’ll just be a distant
memory?”
“Of course not. You’re stages of grief have
nothing to do with her memory. And just because you accept that she’s gone
doesn’t mean you forget her. In fact, I urge you to remember her, remember the
good things. In a healthy way of course.”
“Of course.” I nod, mocking
her.
“I also want to mention something. The
chances of you relapsing at a time like this are astronomical. I think the
rates are at about fifty percent during times of stress and within the first
year of sobriety. However, I need to explain what will happen if you were to
relapse and go back to cocaine.
“Because your body has no cocaine
systemically any longer, your chances of dying during a relapse skyrocket. I’m
sure you were used to injesting large amounts at a time. If you were to take
what you were taking at your peak using time, you’d most likely die,
right?”
I nod. My heart spikes and my palms sweat.
It’s too real. But even talking about it makes me want to try it just to
remember the feels. I miss the high. I’ve been low for so long now.
“Odds are, someone you will meet uses
cocaine. It’s the second most used drug in the country. But you’re a strong
man, Sam. I believe you won’t go back to using. And I hope you’ll find what
you’re looking for.” Heavy tears slide down her reddened cheeks.
“Why are you crying?” I ask her in a voice
that can only be described as emotionless. I clear my throat, holding it
in.
“I’m going to miss you,” she blurts out. “I
know you’ve been through hell and back. But I’ve enjoyed getting to know you,
Sam. I hope I’ve helped you in even the slightest way possible.” She places her
notepad beside her and leans forward. Her arms circle my neck and she tugs me
against her. She squeezes and then pushes me back.
“You’ve helped me,” I say. “You’ve helped
me a lot, Karen.”
“You have my number, right? You have
everything? Money?”
“I don’t need your money, Karen. I have
enough to get me across the country and be fine. Don’t worry about me,
okay?”
“Of course I’ll worry about you!” She slaps
my knee. “You’re a great man, Sam. You’ll make someone happy. First, you have
to find your own way. And stop worrying about this curse. You aren’t cursed, I
swear. You have your new therapist, so call. That’s an order.”
“Got it.” My throat swells a little bit,
tastes salty. Truth is, I’ll miss Karen. I’ll miss all of them. But this is for
the best. I have to separate myself. This is for their own good. Damn, I’m
doing this for them!
I slam my lips together, blink once to stop
my emotions, stand, and leave the office for good. I won’t be coming back here.
And I won’t see these people again.
~ A Reliant Love ~
Nathalie Carter wants one thing:
independence. She has paid her dues by living at home under her parents’
watchful eyes, earning grades to give her a ticket out and joining clubs she
had no interest in to get into college.
She plans to experience things she believes
every new adult should—from falling in love to playing beer pong and pulling an
all-nighter to skipping class because she’s too hungover. But nothing ever
seems to go as planned, and she gets pulled into a world she never imagined
existed.
Samuel Torrington’s past refuses to release
him from its vise-like grip; but he has a plan, and once his senior year of
college is over, he can finally move away and start anew. His addictions help
him get through day-to-day life, but he’s constantly battling darker
demons.
Fate brings the two together, and chance
takes them on a roller coaster ride that neither would dare hop off. Within
destiny’s grasp, they realize there are two things impossible to
fight—addiction and attraction.
Taylor Lavati is a twenty-something year
old author residing in a small town in Connecticut with her husband and dog.
She writes both Young Adult and New Adult with ranging genres from fantasy, A
Curse Books trilogy, to dark romance, A Reliant Love. Romance with a
bit of CHAOS. Find out more at taylorlavati.com
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