Hummingbird
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Being the subject of the hushed whispers from the acid tongues of her peers was something Belle Morgan had become accustomed to. That didn’t mean each barb didn’t scar her deeply. It did.
Xander Duke wasn’t planning on talking to the girl he found sitting by herself in the library that lunchtime. But something about her drew him right in and he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to find out all about her.
As Belle learns to trust Xander, he refrains from exposing a secret that will tear her scarred heart wide open. When the truth comes out, will he be able to piece Belle back together again?
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Hummingbird - Kasey Millstead
by
KASEY MILLSTEAD
Hummingbird
All rights reserved. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased or publicly performed or used in any form without prior written permission of the publisher.
Thank you for respecting the work of this Author.
Hummingbird is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and events portrayed in this book are either from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, with exception to Artists named, and their song lyrics, and direct quotes from movies whose titles have been named. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Copyright © 2016, Kasey Millstead
Dedication
––––––––
To Jovi
You taught me the hard way that life is too short.
Five and a half years with you wasn’t long enough; but for a parent, forever isn’t long enough. I love you with my whole heart. I miss you even more. xx
––––––––
You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.
Ray Bradbury
Dedication
––––––––
To Kell Donaldson
This one is for you, beautiful lady. I’m so thankful to have someone as special as you in my life. Sometimes, the best family to have, is the one we make for ourselves. I knew from the moment we first started chatting, that we’d be friends for life, but you’ve become so much more than that. Not only are you a reader, my proofreader, one of the many few I turn to to gain advice when I’m writing, a champion of my work, and all round, good hearted, genuine soul. You’re part of my family.
What you see is what you get. And what you see, is awesome. x
Read more by Kasey Millstead
Steele Investigations
Sapphire
Emerald
Down Under Cowboy Series
Cowboy Town (Eden & Jackson)
Sky Cowboy (Ava & Jeremy)
Cowboy Dreams (Jules & Clay)
Cowboy Christmas (A Henley Christmas Novella)
Tatted Cowboy (Laura & Luke)
Rogue Cowboy (Sienna & Zeke)
Cowboy Redemption (Kennedy & Kye)
Cowboy Endings
Stand Alone Novels
Fighting to Stay
Illicit Desire
Vengeance is Mine
Dancing with Desire
Fighting for Switch
Family Secrets
Undercover
Liar, Liar
Convoluted
Hummingbird
COMING SOON
Brutal Discoveries
Acknowledgements
My husband, Troy – God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you...
My four beautiful babies – I love you sausages.
To Mel and Wurry, my soul friends - I think I II III IV III II
says it all. Mwah.
Thanks to Meri for being my sounding board, for listening to me waffle on, and for giving great advice. You’re one of the best!
Kylie McDermott at Give Me Books blog – thank you for all you do for me. I’m lucky to not only have you as my promotions extraordinaire, but also as a friend. I love you.
Kell Donaldson, thank you so much for everything you’ve done – the proofing, the teasers, the advice – all of it!! I’m so lucky to have found such a beautiful friend in you! I love you.
CJ – thanks for always fitting me in at the drop of hat, and doing an amazing job.
Thanks to my Cowgirls! You girls are amazing, and I wish I could spend every hour of every day in my group, hanging with y’all. An extra special thank you to Annie Gabor, Johanna Kobashigawa, Linda Kniffen-Wager, Donna Mackenzie, Claire Coleman, Rebecca Paterson, Melody Dawn, Sara Garrett, Ariella Holstein and Tara Hastwell.
To each and every blogger that participates in my cover reveals, blog tours and book blitzes – THANK YOU!!! I wish I could list you all individually, but that would be a novel on its own! Thank you for everything you do. Your hard work never goes unnoticed and it’s appreciated from the bottom of my heart.
Lastly, thank you to each and every one of you that reads this book. You are making my dreams come true.
www.kaseymillstead.com
www.facebook.com/authorkaseymillstead
www.twitter.com/kaseymillstead
Goodreads.com – Kasey Millstead
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HUMMINGBIRD by Kasey Millstead
Being the subject of the hushed whispers from the acid tongues of her peers was something Belle Morgan had become accustomed to. That didn’t mean each barb didn’t scar her deeply. It did.
Xander Duke wasn’t planning on talking to the girl he found sitting by herself in the library that lunchtime. But something about her drew him right in and he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to find out all about her.
As Belle learns to trust Xander, he refrains from exposing a secret that will tear her scarred heart wide open. When the truth comes out, will he be able to piece Belle back together again?
CHAPTER ONE
The whispers in the corridors were something you become accustomed to, especially when the hushed words from the acerbic tongues of your classmates are about you.
I heard she slept with Mr. Smith.
I heard she kissed Vera King. She must be a dyke.
Maybe she’s bi.
I bet she does drugs, too.
Mattie said he saw her passed out in the gutter on the weekend, drunk and lying in a pool of her own vomit.
She’s so disgusting.
I wanted to turn and scream at them. I’m a virgin! I’m not a lesbian! I’ve never touched drugs or even tasted alcohol! But that would have only given them more gossip fodder, so I ducked my head, letting my chin-length dark brown hair that needs a good wash fall over my face to hide my eyes as I rushed to my next class.
I took my usual seat in the rear of the classroom. Back row, furthest seat on the right. The rest of the class filed inside before our English teacher, Mr. Jenkins, began the lesson. He handed out project sheets, instructed us to complete them, and then continued on with reading To Kill a Mockingbird.
Sitting at the back of the classroom wasn’t always my preferred choice but it was somewhat of a prerequisite for bullied youth. This way, no one could toss spitballs at the back of my head, or pull my chair out from under me. Sitting here meant no one could seemingly inconspicuously pass by me to tape a KICK ME sign to my back. When I was younger, I liked sitting smack bang in the middle, surrounded by all of my friends. That all changed right about the time my dad lost his job. All of a sudden I lost my friends, too. Then the rumors began swirling and I closed into myself further. My dad got a new job, a better one than before, but I didn’t regain my friends.
I always remember my parents telling me to ignore the bullies. If you don’t give them anything to talk about, they won’t talk. But I don’t believe that. Whether I supplied them with ammunition or not, they still fired shots at me.
Each day at school for me was no different to the day before and by the time my free period rolled around in the afternoon, I was glad I only had three more months to go before I could leave the gates of this place and never return. I found a seat in a quiet corner of the library with a clear view of the room and a wall behind me, and took a book from the shelf. I should have been catching up on some study and finishing off my English class reading, but instead, I lost myself in the pages of the random teen read.
You’re in my spot.
I heard the accusation spoken but it still took me a few seconds to drag my eyes from the page and focus on the person standing over me. He was about my age, but not someone I had seen at school before. Not surprising really, considering the size of this place.
I didn’t see a name plastered anywhere,
I tartly replied. I briefly noted the surprised look in his eyes before turning my attention back to my book.
You must be sitting on it,
he said before sliding down beside me. He pulled a book from the shelf and began quietly reading. His presence irked me, hurling me out of the self-contented bubble I had placed around myself. Didn’t he know he should avoid me? Hadn’t he heard the rumors about me? Maybe he was new and trying to be sociable.
Do you mind?
I haughtily shuffled to the left away from him.
Not at all.
I sneaked a look at him, taking in his floppy brown hair, chiseled jaw, and the friendly smirk twitching his lips.
I did my best to ignore him but it was hard to get lost in the words when he was sitting so close by me. Every breath he took, each rise and fall of his shoulders, seemed to distract me. In the end, I gave up with a sigh and took out my project notes from Mr. Jenkins’ class.
I’m Xander, by the way.
Good for you.
Aren’t you going to tell me your name?
Nope.
I gritted my teeth and pretended to read the paper in my hands for the millionth time.
If I had to guess, I’d say it’s probably something like Mandy. Or Trudy. Unless your parents were on a hippy bender, in which case it could be Rainbow or Purple Rain. You don’t look like a Purple Rain, though,
he mused. Maybe it’s something floral. Daisy or Rose.
He continued looking at me, assessing me, trying to figure out my name based solely on my looks. I wondered if that were possible? I didn’t wait for him to keep on guessing. I stood and slung my backpack over my shoulder before leaving the quiet seclusion of the library. Thankfully, the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, so I rushed out hoping to avoid the teams of other students waiting to whisper crap about me.
At night, the orange hues of the lighting in our house gave the illusion that our home was inviting and warm. In reality, those lights masked the cold, dark truth. My dad worked long hours and my mom spent her time proclaiming to be the perfect wife and mother instead of actually being a wife and mother. A plate of store-bought cookies was left out for my afternoon snack, and to the untrained eye, it would appear that my mother lovingly baked them for me. She made sure to set them out in case I had a friend over after school – no way would she miss an opportunity to project what a perfect mother she was. I bypassed the cookies and made my way to my upstairs bedroom.
A chair in the corner under the window overlooked our backyard and I loved to sit there and daydream as the world ticked by. I wouldn’t be able to today though, because it was Thursday and my dreaded piano tutor, Vivienne, would be here soon. I didn’t enjoy playing the instrument, but since it was part of my mother’s ideology of the ‘perfect’ family, I had played since I could remember.
Very nice, Belle,
Vivienne murmured appreciatively as my fingers deftly continued to dance over the keys through one of my favorite pieces: Anne’s Song, from Anne of Green Gables.
That sounded delightful.
Mother applauded as she entered the room. I hadn’t even noticed she had been watching.
She’s a marvelous pianist,
Vivienne agreed.
Rather than converse with them, I simply moved on to playing a Beethoven piece in my repertoire. I might not enjoy playing the piano, but at least I could somewhat express myself through the music. That’s why I chose to play ‘Egmont Overture.’ I could take out my inner aggression and frustration on each key, fully immersing myself in the music, expressing myself in a way I knew they wouldn’t understand. Thankfully, this would be my final lesson with Vivienne. With graduation looming quickly, my mother had decided I should be using every spare moment to study.
When I opened my eyes after the final note had