Archives For Interrupted

Book 2 in the Progress Series

 Progress: Interrupted (Book #2 in The Progress Series)

After the emotional turmoil that was ‘Jesse’ subsides, Charlie manages to find peace with her decision to leave him, despite her conscience telling her otherwise. But saying goodbye to the drama proves to be an easier task than she anticipated.

And although Charlie’s life continues to test her strength, her will, and her motivation to pick herself up and dust herself off, she carves a new path. Making positive changes in her life, she gets a new job, a new apartment and a new guy; everything is nearly perfect. Nearly.

Hundreds of miles away, Jesse isn’t faring too well in their aftermath. But within his darkness he finds a purpose, and reconstructs himself with one goal in mind:

He needs to find his Charlie.

Reviews

“…Interrupted pulled every emotion out for me. I was happy, sad, angry, laughing, crying…What a rollercoaster. This was definitely one of my top reads for 2013.”
-Author Missy Johnson

“…I felt anger, sadness, happiness, frustration. Just like with Progress, Amy Queau has wrote a compelling and original book…”
-Author Claire C Riley

“…I recommend this when it is officially released, you may want a lot of tissues at hand though…”
-Author Mercy Cortez

“Author Amy Queau has done it again! You have created an amazing emotional story. I can’t wait to see what is in store next for Jesse & Charlie. I am such a BIG FAN!!!! Book three can’t come soon enough! THIS IS A MUST READ SERIES!!!”
-Jessica’s Book Review

“While Progress was good, this one is even better. I devoured this book!”
-KDH Reviews

 

To read more reviews on Goodreads, follow the link below:
http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17704167-interrupted

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“Kiss me,” she said as soon as the elevator doors closed.

“What?” he said, as though he was uneasy with the request.

“I said, kiss me. This was a really big moment for me, and you’re ruining it by hesitating. I want a kiss. We can deal with the two of us later. Just kiss me,” she demanded again.

His frown eased into a smile as he quickly leaned down to kiss her. With one hand behind her neck, he pulled her mouth to his. Helping the adrenaline slow in her system, Charlie melted at the touch of his soft lips. Fearing what might happen if she allowed herself to lose herself completely, she pulled away and smiled.

“Thank you. Next time, don’t hesitate.”

He let out a laugh as the doors opened.

~

            “It’s been a big weekend for you,” Samuel said as Charlie was lighting her cigarette.

“It has,” she paused, thinking of what the scene upstairs must have looked like to him. “I’m so sorry you had to see that up there. I mean, I don’t think I would have been able to go through with it if it wasn’t for you, but there’s just a lot of history there that might have been difficult for you to understand.”

“Because of me? How did I help you get through it?” he said.

She shrugged. “You helped me in a way I don’t think I can ever put into words. Just by being there, you helped me.”

He nodded, pretending he understood. Then he shook his head quickly. “What are we doing, Charlie? I mean, what is going on? I’m a little confused.”

“Okay, so I haven’t done a ton of thinking about this yet. I was trying to get through one thing at a time, and honestly, the Percocet has been messing with my coherency. But, I know we can figure out something.”

He nodded.

“Do you have any ideas?” she said.

“Well, I had one, very flimsy idea, but I hadn’t decided if I wanted to tell you about it.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“No?” she said.

“Nuh uh.”

She laughed, “Tell me.”

“Well, since I just escaped a very long, very shitty relationship, and you initially wanted to take things slow and are obviously going to need some time to heal…” he stopped, taking a deep breath in and exhaling again, “I thought maybe we could just choose a time frame, say two months, before we do anything physical. You know, like, physical.” The pain of that sentence alone left its remnants on his face.

“Oh,” she whispered.

“Yeah, see? See why I didn’t want to mention it?”

Floating in the ocean is supposed to be peaceful. Not today. If I pull my head under again, it might just take me this time. God, I wish it would. Here comes another wave. If I’m lucky I won’t see tomorrow. I won’t have to live with the regret and painful nostalgia that comes with sleepless nights and immeasurable days. I can just float, forever, away from this town. Eventually something will kill me. The wave came down, slapping him in the face and his lungs took in an enormous amount of water. I can’t breathe. This is the end.

Jesse woke with the image of a piece of driftwood floating away as he opened his eyes. Eleven months after leaving Minnesota and nothing had changed. The nightmares; some new, some old. The anxiety, paranoia, and depression; always changing and in rapid cycles. It could take minutes or days to switch, without warning.

As Jesse looked around his room, his eyes went straight to the window; ignoring the unpacked boxes in the corner and his drum set that he never assembled. There was still a smoky haze from the night before as a reminder to look beside him to make sure she was gone.

Damn. She’s still here. I obviously didn’t make myself clear enough last night.

Stretching her arms and arching her back, the sheet that had been covering her naked body was freed, exposing her breasts.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” she said yawning. His eyes shifted down to her dark nipples and he looked away.

“Get out,” he said.

She stopped mid-stretch. “Wow. Okay.” Whipping the sheet back and rolling her eyes, she rose and looked around for her clothes. Lying naked in his bed, he kept his focus on the overflowing ashtray on his bedside table. Picking up her scattered clothes from around the room, she began dressing herself.

“Cool ink,” she said, trying to make small talk.

He rolled his eyes and went to light a cigarette.

“Where’d you get the frog?” she asked, tying the laces of her tennis shoes.

“Why are you still here?” he said. He stood to get a clean pair of boxer briefs.

“You’re just delightful,” she huffed. “Fine. I’m ready. You can take me back to my car, it’s parked at the restaurant,” she said, finally taking the hint.

“Not my problem,” he said, pulling his briefs over his hips and running his hand through his hair.

“You’re not even going to give me a ride!…Oh, never mind. I’ll walk. Really, Jesse, it’s been fun. Dickhead,” she said walking toward the door.

As she was about to cross the threshold she turned back to him. “Oh, and my name is Carly, not Charlie, asshole. Next time you take your next victim home, make sure you have her name right. It makes for an awkward fuck.”

The fury was bubbling slowly, deep in his veins, as he watched Charlie walk through his bedroom door. He stood in awe, and walked to the window to glance out at the driveway where her car was parked. He listened carefully for the front door, to hear her footsteps returning, anything that would give him a hint that she’d changed her mind.

Come back to me. You can’t do this.

The small clock on his nightstand echoed with each tick, making the room feel smaller and his anticipation rise. He heard a jingle and a quiet click from downstairs. The silence crept up the stairwell, through the hallway and into his room. Even then, a part of him still denied that Charlie had left him.

He closed his eyes and exhaled.

He heard the muffled sound of her car door closing and the start of her engine. Glancing out the window in disbelief, he saw her pause for a moment. After lighting a cigarette, she stepped on the gas.

Jesse was fueled with hatred. He had trusted the wrong one. After finally gaining the courage it took to confide and respect someone, she left him. Just like the rest of them.

He threw on a pair of sweats and made his way down to the kitchen. He opened the cupboard and took out his medication. Staring into the palm of his hand at an assortment of pills, he froze as his mind raced about Charlie.

How could she do this? Is this more of our fucking game? Does she expect me to come running after her? No. She knows me better than that. See, I told you. You just had to go and fuck her. You knew everything would change, and yet, what? You hoped. You hoped she’d want to see who you really are? You hoped she’d accept you for all your flaws, scars, moods? You hoped she was different?

You hoped.

This snuck up on me.

Fuck hope. Hope is for the weak-minded. And fuck Charlie! Who does that? Who just gets up and leaves when someone is about to bare their fucking soul?

No, fuck Charlie. FUCK YOU, CHARLIE!

Jesse threw his medication across the room and began ripping the cabinets off their hinges. One by one, he wrestled and whipped across the room. They banged the bookshelves and shattered the windows. In his menacing rage, verging on madness, he began kicking and punching walls, ripping the curtains off the windows and overturning tables just to hear them crack on the floor. There was screeching in his ears and his head began to ache. He walked swiftly to the bookshelf and plucked off the remaining books, ripping out the pages by the handful and tossing the crippled bindings against the wall.

He stepped back and glanced around the room. Not a single moment of regret passed through him when he saw the disaster before him. The walls were chipped and broken. Framed pictures were tilted and the glass was in pieces. The cold spring air was rushing in through the broken window frames, cooling the room quickly, which only made the scorching blood traveling through his veins tolerable.

He stood, trying to focus one thought. Any thought. Something that could erase all the damage that had spun from the past two hours. He ran upstairs and stood in the entryway, staring into his bedroom. She was here. She was here just a moment ago. And now you’ve lost her. He stepped to the edge of his bed, looking down at the messed sheets. Picking up a pillow, he buried his face into it and breathed in deeply. That damn perfume. Hugging the pillow to his waste, he grabbed his chest and sunk; his knees collapsed to the floor.

He sat slouched, resting his hands on his knees. Staring into a sea of dirty clothes and loose change that littered his carpet, he tried to make sense of Charlie’s motivations.

“I’ll never be able to be everything you need me to be. And that’s okay. I just needed to be here for you. Your friend, your lover. Your confidante. I wouldn’t change a single moment of it. But you need to realize that love is more than just obsession wrapped up in a tiny, dancing brunette package.”

He glanced down at his tattoo on his forearm and traced the lines with his finger. His thoughts slowed and his mind emptied. He grabbed his hair and slumped his head between his knees.

“What the fuck!” Jesse’s head shot up when he heard Jake’s voice from downstairs.

Jesse rose quickly and grabbed a T-shirt from the floor. Pulling it over his head, he paused at his torso with a thought.

“Jesse Fucking Anders! Where the fuck are you? I’m going to kick your ass!” Jake’s voice rumbled through the hallway and Jesse grabbed his shoes and keys.

“I’m here,” Jesse said, quickly stepping down from the stairs.

Jake was standing in the middle of the living room assessing the damage.

“You want to explain this to me? What the hell happened here?”

“Not now. I gotta go,” Jesse said.

“What? No. You’re not going anywhere until you tell me who trashed my dad’s house,” Jake said, his face turning red.

“I did.”

Jake’s eyes opened wide and his mouth hung open as Jesse approached the front door.

“That’s all you’re going to say? No explanation?”

“Not now, I have to take care of something,” he said as he opened the door.

“Okay. Fine. That’s the way it’s gonna be? You’ve got one week to find a new place to live!” Jake shouted through the door just as Jess shut it behind him.

~

It’s one of those moments. It’s a moment so fragile, that if I move or speak, the whole thing will collapse. So I’ll just sit here, in this dirty chair, in a place that shouldn’t be open at midnight, and listen to the buzz vibrating in my head. I’ll listen to the screech of the needle as it collides with the layers of my skin, giving me a different kind of hope. One that I can make myself.

Taking a drink straight from the bottle, Jesse welcomed the physical pain he was enduring in order for the clawing in his gut to ease.