Unbroken Beings

Unbroken Beings

A Fragile Creatures Novel

© 2017 by Kristina Circelli

Cover by Michelle Monique Photography

Editing by Juli’s Elite Editing

Formatting by JT Formatting

Smashwords Edition

ISBN: 978-1544058184

All rights reserved.

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, bands, and/or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Don’t Miss These Other Books by Kristina Circelli

Standalones

Fragile Creatures

The Silent Sounds of Chaos

The Never

The Sour Orange Derby

Damsel Not

Fade into the Woodwork

A Single Swim

The Whisper Legacy

Beyond the Western Sun

Walk the Red Road

Into the Shadow Realm

The Helping Hands Series

The Helping Hands

Shadows in the Night

The Iron Fist

Abandon

The Five Flames Series

Follow Me Home

In Sickness

Lie the Liar

The City Will Crumble

Avenge the Forgotten

For everyone who fights to save the fragile creatures.

***

Table of Contents

Title Page

Chapter 1 – REMEMBER

Chapter 2 – A NEW WORLD

Chapter 3 – A PAINTED SKY

Chapter 4 – FAMILY OF FRIENDS

Chapter 5 – A HEAVY LOSS

Chapter 6 – IN MOURNING

Chapter 7 – A HOME TO DEFEND

Chapter 8 – TOGETHER

Chapter 9 – LAYLA

Chapter 10 – MAKING CONNECTIONS

Chapter 11 – AN UNDERSTANDING

Chapter 12 – A SOLITARY WARRIOR

Chapter 13 – NEW LIFE IS BORN

Chapter 14 – A PLAN IN MOTION

Chapter 15 – MEMORIES

Chapter 16 – A DAY OF DEVASTATION

Chapter 17 – PROTECT

Chapter 18 – AFTERMATH

Chapter 19 – MAKE AMENDS

Chapter 20 – A SECOND CHANCE AT LIFE

Chapter 21 – A GOOD MAN

Chapter 22 – A BOND IS BUILT

Chapter 23 – A PROMISE IS MADE

Chapter 24 – A MOMENT TO SEIZE

Chapter 25 – A TASTE OF SOMETHING SWEET

Chapter 26 – A TRIP INTO TOWN

Chapter 27 – SOMEONE TO TALK TO

Chapter 28 – EMBRACED

Chapter 29 – IN THE ARMS OF CASTER

Chapter 30 – A FAMILIAR FACE

Chapter 31 – A PLAN MADE

Chapter 32 – A PLAN EXECUTED

Chapter 33 – A STRENGTHENED SOUL

EPILOGUE

A MESSAGE FROM THE AUTHOR

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

"YOU’LL ALWAYS BE my daughter. We just can’t be a family."

She sat against the wall in the darkest part of her room, hazel eyes unfocused, the steady clink-clink-clink of a wine bottle against glass reminding her just how alone she truly was. Words that had haunted her for so long now continued to type across her mind, the bitter conviction of a mother who had forsaken her only daughter.

"The best part of my life is gone. Nothing you can say will change that."

An accident, they called it. A moment of bad judgment that took one life and left two others in turmoil. At just sixteen years old, she would forever bear the physical scars of the day she lost not only her father to a car accident, but her mother to alcoholism. One finger traced the scar along her jaw, just as a twinge of pain stabbed her in the knee.

"Consider it physical therapy for the injuries you caused yourself."

More words meant to hurt, words that tucked her away in the shadows of an empty bedroom as the sounds of a wedding long since passed played on the small television just down the hall. Memories of a broken family. Reminders of what she had lost.

A father.

A mother.

A life she longed to live.

"I wish it had been you, not him."

Her eyes closed in defeat, just the sound of shattering glass erupted in her ears.

WHEN SHE OPENED her eyes again, eighteen-year-old Evangeline Frost found herself bathed in the light of a fierce morning sun. Gone were the shadows of a bedroom she would never see again, the bare walls that mocked the beautiful paintings that once adorned them. In their place—a faded calendar that reminded her time passed by after all, a hand-woven basket made for her by one of the locals, and a small corkboard decorated with pictures of the only people she had left in the world: Cam, her best friend back home; Jett and Lettie, who had become the parents she hadn’t wanted, but now couldn’t live without; Ruke, the giraffe she loved with all her heart; and Caster, just … Caster.

With a quiet sigh, Evangeline rolled onto her back and stared up at the pole-and-thatched ceiling, her eyes tracing the patterns made by light and shadow. She’d been having the dreams again lately, her mind taking her back to the house where she was no longer welcome, to the woman—Mother—who had turned her away. She knew why the dreams were returning, knew there was no way to avoid them. All she could do was live with the memories each dream brought with it.

Evangeline lifted her arm to look at the scar that marred an otherwise perfect wrist. It had taken a long time for her to be able to look at the scar without shame. Now she just frowned, her fingers trailing over the raised red mark as she remembered the day she’d tried to take her own life, and the voice of her father that had saved her.

Stay strong, little elf. Stay strong for me, she whispered, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She blinked them away. It had been so long since she’d cried, and she didn’t want to fall apart now. So she rose from bed and dressed for the day, forcing away the nightmare and welcoming the scent of animal, heat, and dust permeating the air. The wildlife preserve was brimming with the sounds of morning, beckoning for her to awaken with it.

As she opened the door to her bunk and stepped out onto the packed dirt of Kindred Hides Conservation of Zambia, Evangeline reminded herself the past was just that—the past. She was in a world far from home, living a life that gave her purpose again, and that, despite the pain of those nighttime memories, made her smile.

***

IT DIDN’T TAKE Evangeline long to dress for the day. It had once been so important, so foolishly important, to keep up with the trends that dictated her high school standing, but now she felt comfortable in even her most basic of attire. Flattering was no longer a worry, but comfort. So she donned her now-signature khaki shorts that fell mid-thigh, short-sleeved scoop-neck green shirt, and standard steel-toe work boots with socks that had seen better days. Her long hair went up into a ponytail, and she questioned for perhaps the hundredth time if she should just cut it all off.

Life was different here in Africa. Having grown up in Florida and then staying briefly in California, Evangeline thought she had become accustomed to heat and humidity and sunburns and all the things that came with working outside in the sun. She quickly came to realize that Zambia was truly a new and unique world, one she loved adjusting to. There were times when she missed the conveniences of home—and occasionally a greasy fast food cheeseburger—but she tried hard to remember her new home was worth the sacrifices.

It had been almost a year since she and Caster made the trip that would set them on a course to challenges unknown. Almost two years since the accident that changed Evangeline’s life, since the words spoken by a mother who chose misery over compassion sent her daughter into a downward spiral of despair.

Evangeline tried not to think of those days, but the memories came anyway. Trying so hard to move on after her father’s death, unable to rebuild the bond that had once been so strong between mother and daughter. Finally giving up, attempting to end her life while surrounded by the paintings she had so lovingly crafted with her own two hands.

"Paint me a picture, Evie girl."

He’d said that so often to her, a loving request to showcase her talent so he could brag to all his friends and coworkers. But it had been her father’s final words, ones that haunted her still, no matter how much time passed, that pulled her out of those suicidal thoughts. Words that followed her from Florida to California, where she’d been sent by a social worker who thought she would benefit from a program for troubled teens.

Back then, Evangeline hadn’t cared enough about herself or her future to see the beauty in the Second Hides Program at the Kindred Hides Wildlife Preserve. She’d agreed to the plan only because she had nothing better to do with her life and was interested in seeing the animals, though she never imagined they’d actually let her work with them. The entire trip to the preserve, her mind had echoed with the one word—unwanted—that reminded her over and over again there was no one left in the world who cared about her.

But she’d been wrong, and the discovery had taken more than a little time to accept. Jett and Lettie took her in as one of their own, and Caster, their charming if not arrogant nephew, had helped her see that there was reason to smile again after all.

Evangeline could hear Caster now not far from her bunk. Stepping outside, she followed the sound of cursing around the back corner of her bunk and a quick walk over to an under-construction building. Currently, there was a large twenty-by-twenty slab of concrete with a wooden frame wrapping around its edges. Eventually it would be a new bunk for additional workers they were planning to take on.

Squinting in the harsh sun, using one hand to shield her eyes, Evangeline peered up at the man kneeling on the roof, attempting to hold a board in place while hammering it down. He wore khaki pants stained with grease and dirt, boots that matched her own, and nothing else.

I’d tell you to get a camera, but you probably already have dozens of pictures of me.

Caster’s amused voice startled Evangeline into realizing she had been staring at each and every one of those hard muscles lining his arms, chest, and stomach. For how long, she had no idea. Though, she had to admit to herself she’d been so caught up in staring she hadn’t even realized Caster wasn’t alone on the roof. Kalvin, the head of their preserve, was straddling a beam on the other end, hammer in hand as he pretended not to listen to their conversation. Such was his way, never interfering, only helping.

I wasn’t staring.

Uh-huh. He sent a grin down at her that would have made her blush had she not been used to Caster’s teasing. Setting down the hammer, Caster rose to his knees and held his arms out to his sides, showing off the body that, at twenty-two, was finely tanned and toned. Go ahead and stare. I won’t tell anyone.

Behind him, Kalvin rolled his eyes and continued working. Evangeline smirked and looked away, pretending to not be interested to avoid letting him know the truth—that she didn’t need to stare to know what he looked like, from every angle. In the four months it took them to prepare for the trip to Africa, she’d fallen a little more for him every single day. Ever since they’d arrived in Zambia she’d been watching him out of the corner of her eye, all those times when they were out in the field or helping take care of an injured animal or were just hanging out after a long day’s work.

But the last thing his ego needed was to hear that. Please. You act like you’ve got something worth looking at.

Caster clapped a hand to his heart in mock insult. You wound me. Then he grinned that charming grin again. You know, you keep seeing me without a shirt. When you gonna lose yours?

Evangeline shot a look over at Kalvin, embarrassed by the suggestion, but he only chuckled to himself. Her mind took her back to the first time Caster said words so similar to those. A long walk through the woods to a gorgeous pool of crystal-blue water, with towering rocks the preserve keepers loved to jump off of. He’d been teasing her back then, but sometimes she wondered if there was a hint of seriousness to his words, and she was just too inept to realize it.

She couldn’t think about such things now. Her crush was just that, a crush on a man who would likely never see her in a romantic way, and she couldn’t let fantasies distract her. This was her chance at a fresh start, an opportunity to do something that would honor her father’s memory. To make up for ending his life.

Time for breakfast, she finally said and turned on her heel, not seeing the frown that crossed Caster’s face, or the way he watched her walk away.

***

EASY THERE, CAMDEN. You got a big enough belly as it is, Evangeline laughed later that afternoon as the wildebeest on the other side of the fence chomped through the pellets in the bucket she’d placed next to the water trough, greedily searching for more.

Though she wasn’t supposed to, she risked a couple fingers through the fence to rub the black fur of its snout, then ruffle the fur of its adorable fur-beard. At just over five hundred pounds, the creature easily posed a risk to her safety if she got too close, but she wasn’t worried. Camden, with that awkwardly box-shaped head, curved horns, and spindly legs supporting a slender back end that didn’t match a well-built front, had been gentle and indifferent since day one.

The wildebeest had been brought in two month ago after one of the preserve keepers found it close to the river, ill and near death. Rather than let nature take its course, they’d brought the ailing creature back and cared for it. Now it was nearly ready to be released again.

Then we’ll have to find another Camden, she said, more to herself as she dusted off her hands. It had become a running gag at the preserve to give one of their animals the name of her best friend back home. Her only friend back home.

"Ya named a slobbery Africa cow after me?" Camden had asked the last time they spoke. Ya couldn’t pick out one of those big ole’ lions that get to sleep all day?

"Just calling it like I see it. Better than the baboon," she had replied with a chuckle, enjoying the banter between them. Cam was her only tie back to the life she’d once known, a reminder of all the things she loved, and all the things she’d lost.

A family that loved her.

A promising future.

The security of a warm home and bed that belonged to her.

Hell, even full use of her right hand.

She rubbed that hand now as she headed away from the heart of the preserve. A loud laugh ringing out to her right had her glancing over her shoulder, seeing one of the male preserve workers teasing the young woman who had caught his eye when she arrived last year. Evangeline enjoyed hearing the Australian’s thick accent, even if he was currently threatening to dump a bucket of water over her friend’s head.

Shaking her own head and leaving the two to fend for themselves, she continued across the preserve. It only took her a few minutes to reach her favorite spot in all of Africa—a watchtower that overlooked the entire preserve and as far out as the eye could see. Heights never bothered her, and so she made the climb up the wood-planked ladder easily, having learned how to navigate such things with her physical limitations.

Once at the top, she lifted the flap of a red sign, the signal to anyone below that someone was on the tower in case they were needed. The sign was positioned just below the Zambian flag, with its bold green background, striped rectangle in the lower right corner, and golden eagle flying atop the block of color. Kalvin had explained to her the significance of each color upon her inquiry. Green to represent the nation’s lush and fertile landscape. Red to remember the country’s fight for freedom. Black to represent the Zambian people. Orange to celebrate the natural resources the land was known for. And the eagle, the representation of perseverance, rising above all challenges in triumph.

Lying on her back beneath the flag, Evangeline stared up at the evening sky. From this view she was basked in a canopy of gold, brilliant hues of bronze and orange that stroked across the sky in a painting of abstract swirls.

Her right hand lifted, one finger following a stroke of crimson down, back up into a cloud of gold, a quick fan across the center of the sky. Her fingers closed around an imaginary brush. Bristles coated in thick oils mixed on a palette, gliding atop a smooth canvas, texturing a sky that gazed down upon its villagers with a golden smile that welcomed all no matter their pasts. From this view, she could pretend she was anywhere in the world, across the ocean from her beloved Ruke, or just down the street from her best friend, Cam.

She still missed Florida, Evangeline realized as a pang struck her in the center of her chest. She missed California. She missed the familiar and the expected, no matter how much she tried to convince herself this new life was better. But, most of all, she missed the dreams she once shared with her father.

"A famous painter, that’s what my Evie is gonna be, her father said, hanging her latest piece on her bedroom wall. A family enjoying a day at the beach, parents with their pigtailed little girl, laughing as the ocean waved behind them and sunlight streaming from above. Just you wait, everyone will be calling for a painting."

"Yeah, right, Evangeline scoffed. No one wants a painting by a fifteen-year-old, Dad. Just you and Mom."

"Just you wait, he said again, straightening the painting so it fit perfectly between a waterfall landscape and a giraffe nuzzling its newborn calf. I see big things happening for my little elf."

"Big things, all right," Evangeline muttered.

Talking to yourself again?

The low hum of that voice washed over Evangeline, breaking her from memories that would have only led to grief. She smiled up at Caster as he finished the climb and flopped down next to her with his usual dramatic flair.

This day, I am beat, he moaned in mock misery. She glanced over at him to see his shirt was damp with sweat, as was his dark-blond hair, which was in desperate need