Break Me Out

Contents Copyright Title Page Multimedia Trigger Warnings Dedication Epigraph 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 Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine Chapter Forty Chapter Forty-One Chapter Forty-Two Chapter Forty-Three Chapter Forty-Four Chapter Forty-Five Epilogue Coming Soon Dear Readers Acknowledgements Guide Contents Copyright © 2023 by Avery Kingston All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. MULTIMEDIA To listen to the songs that inspired this story, go to Avery’s playlist: Spotify Playlist Avery’s Pinterest board of images and aesthetics: Break Me Out PinBoard Dear Readers, This book deals with PTSD, death, suicide, bullying, abuse, recovery from a traumatic brain injury, and may be sensitive to some readers. I can’t possibly list all the potential triggers. All I want for my readers is an enjoyable experience, so if you have something specific you would like to ask me before reading, I’m more than happy to answer any questions. In my stories you’ll find pain laced with humor, the good and the bad, because such is life. In life we don’t always get our happily every after, but in my stories, you do. I hope you enjoy Theo and Grant’s story. As Dolly Parton so eloquently said, “There are pieces of me in everything I write.” This one was personal for me. Happy Reading, Avery To the bullies that tortured me when I was a kid and told me I was stupid, ugly, obnoxious, and strange. Thanks for the writing fuel. There is no better revenge than a life well lived. Find out who you are, and do it on purpose. - DOLLY PARTON I couldn’t sleep. The rain pelted against my window, and the thunder rumbled every wall in the old house. I lay there, shivering under my blanket as lightning flashed across the sky. Another loud clap of thunder and the walls and floors shook again. Typically, I’d go into my sister’s room, but she wouldn’t let me anymore, said I was far too old to fear the storms. She was right, I was thirteen, but I’d never liked storms, especially in this haunted mansion. Regardless, she wasn’t home. Snuck out with her boyfriend, again. I threw off my covers and scurried down the stairs, then crept through the hall. Light poured out from a small crack in the door to my father’s office, and I could hear him chatting with Helen, our house manager. “I’ve already contacted my lawyer,” Father said. “Tomorrow, we’ll file the necessary paperwork.” “Kennedy is going to hate you for this, Charles…and Theo…” her voice thinned, and I could barely hear her. Charles? I’d never heard Helen call him anything other than Lord Murphy. And what about me? “Theo will hate me for it too, but he’s smart. He knows his sister even better than I do. Someday he’ll understand.” I inched closer to the door, and the floorboard creaked under my feet. They immediately stopped talking. “Theo….” Father called. I held my breath. “Theo, I know you’re out there.” He sighed. “Come in.” Busted. Slowly, I pushed open the door and edged into the room. They both just stood there, staring at me. “That will be all, Helen.” He motioned her away. “Shut the door behind you.” “Yes, Lord Murphy.” With a nod, she turned, patting me on the shoulder before she walked out. “Sit,” he ordered. I sat because I always obeyed. “What’s troubling you…” he peered at me above his glasses “…other than the storm?” “You never came up to play chess.” He’d promised but forgotten. “I’m sorry. I had important business to tend to.” He stared out the window looking quite tormented. Did he know Kennedy had snuck out? I looked at him, then at the bottle. He’d been drinking a lot more lately. As he glanced back, he caught me staring. Shifting uncomfortably, he coughed into his fist. “It’s been a rough day. I was hoping a drink would take the edge off.” He tapped on the bottle and rattled off the name and year. “It’s very rare, and very expensive.” He stared into his empty glass. “Thankfully Kennedy didn’t steal this bottle to drink with the Evans’ boy.” “I…I…” I stammered. He waved his hand. “I don’t expect you to tattle. It shows your loyalty to your sister.” He bobbed his head as he poured himself another. I exhaled in relief as he picked up his pipe and shoved it between his lips. “Bit of a rough day, wasn’t it?” He struck a match. I nodded, swallowing hard. Because of my asthma, every time I’d get a little sniffle, Mum would go insane and keep me in bed for days, especially if it was chilly. She also hated him smoking around me. It didn’t bother me. In fact, I loved the scent. “Feeling better?” Smoke billowed out the side of his mouth. “Yes.” I nodded again. “I just can’t sleep.” “My mother used to give me a bit of whiskey when I was ill. Does wonders for a cough, and makes you sleep like a baby.” He slid the glass across the desk. My brows rose. Was this what I thought it was? My first drink?