Losing Me: The Prologue

Reader beware: This post contains the prologue of my work-in-progress, Losing Me. Losing Me is book one in my Nickayla Quinn Series, and once I got the prologue down, I felt that it was a story I just HAD to write. The idea for Nickayla's story came to me in a moment of clarity, and I'd be more than happy to share all the inner details of her life and experiences as the novel progresses.

I really hope you enjoy the story, and although this portion of the novel is NOT the most emotional part, it IS extremely heavy, and so I warn you ahead of time that it does deal with a touchy subject. If you're unable to deal with emotionally touchy subject matter, this novel (and the subsequent novels) is not for you.

 I really wanted to wait to share the prologue, but after seeing a post by a fellow Indie author, I couldn't wait any longer. I just had to let it out. Feel free to comment and share. Here is Nickayla's story...here is Losing Me.


Disclaimer: This portion of Losing Me is unedited, and is subject to change at any moment.

6 months ago

…

            “Come on, Nic,” Kyle said, nudging me softly. “I won’t tell Mama Quinn if you won’t.”

            I sighed as I reluctantly took the red Solo cup filled with Vodka and cranberry juice from his hand. It wasn’t my first time drinking, not in the slightest, but I had promised Mom and Daddy that I would be responsible, especially since I had to babysit Naomi and Noah for the week.  I didn’t want to babysit my younger siblings with a hangover, so I vowed that I’d only drink half the cup, then pass it along to Michele or Rowan when they showed up.

            “Fine,” I said, taking a sip. I closed my eyes and reveled in the taste of the strong alcohol racing down my throat.

            Kyle knew how to get to me, and he used that to his advantage: Vodka cranberries were my favorite drink.

            He laced his arm through mine as we tried to make our way through the crowd.

            Ben Kingston threw the hugest party of the year right after final exams, and for the first time since high school started, my entire group of friends was able to get together and make it. Honestly, I could have cared less if Angie, Michele, Brody, or Rowan made it. The only real reason that I came to Ben’s party because I was hoping that Kyle would finally kiss me for the first time.

            We had been feeling each other for over a year, but the both of us were just waiting for the right moment I guess.

            I even wore a special outfit for the occasion: a skintight leopard skirt that stopped just above my knees paired with a sheer black halter top and red platform pumps. My long, curly hair was twisted into a sophisticated, messy bun on the top of my head. I had only worn one coat of mascara and a dab of peach tinted lip gloss. I wanted Kyle to see me, and really see me for the first time that night.

            “Nic!” Michele said, rushing over to me and giving me air kisses. “I’m glad you made it! Brody just left me alone to fuck whatever girl looks good to him right now, and Row and Angie haven’t gotten here yet.”

            I gave her a halfhearted hug, and stepped back slightly to examine what Michele was wearing. She was all dolled up in a strapless “little black dress” and glittery gold peeptoe pumps. Her makeup was flawless as usual, and her long, straight hair descended like a blonde waterfall over her shoulders and down her back.

            “You look great, Michele,” I said, smiling.

            Kyle tightened his grip on my arm, and I turned to face him.

            The music was so loud that I could barely hear him, but I could see his lips moving. I would remember that song forever: Outta My Head by Daughtry. I leaned closer to Ky, and within seconds we were mere inches apart.

            “Wanna get out of here?” Kyle whispered. “I think we should talk.”

            I nodded.

            I looked apologetically at Michele, raising my eyebrows. She was the only one of my friends besides Brody who knew how I felt about Kyle. I grazed her arm, letting her know that I’d be back as soon as possible.

            Kyle pulled away from me, breaking the twining of our arms. He grabbed my hand, closing his around it as he led me toward Ben.

            Ben was sitting with his girlfriend, Taylor, in the living room. They were sharing drinks and talking to a group of people when Ky tapped Ben on the shoulder.

            “Hey, man, can we go in your room really quick?” Kyle asked.

            Ben grinned goofily and nodded.

            “Sure,” he said. “Up the stairs, second door on the left. Go in the first door and I’ll kick your ass, York.” He smiled at me and winked. “Good to see you, Nickayla.”

            I nodded, turning away as Kyle led me upstairs.

I was so excited. For the first time, I was going to get what I wanted. I wanted to kiss Kyle that night, at least just kiss him. I didn’t need a date, or a relationship, not yet anyway. I just needed one kiss to see if the sparks we thought we felt were real.

            Once we were upstairs, I immediately spotted Ben’s room. I giggled at the sign on the door that read, “Do Not Disturb: Tay and Ben couple time” in dry-erase marker. Ky reached up and wiped off the bottom line. He smiled tentatively at me and opened the door.

            “After you,” he said.

            I walked into the bedroom and sat on the bed. The minute that I did, Kyle closed the door.

            I couldn’t take my eyes off of him as he walked toward me. I kicked my shoes off and sat back on Ben’s bed, my back against his headboard. Kyle climbed on the bed and sat next to me, grinning wildly at me. His eyes were wide, and he didn’t blink for a couple minutes.

            I pushed his face away from mine, giggling. “Ky, you look like the Cheshire Cat,” I said.

            He gingerly placed his hand at the nape of my neck. I gazed up at him, taking in the charcoal color of his eyes as they bored into me. It was as though he were really seeing me for the first time. When he leaned forward to kiss me, I swear, it took my breath away.

            His lips touched mine, and fire erupted. When his tongue grazed my top lip, I had to resist the urge to scream. It was everything I ever wanted, and I was being granted my only wish by my best friend, by Kyle. My Kyle.

            I slowly adjusted myself and got on my knees, positioning myself on his legs so that I was straddling him. If this was going to be my first kiss with Kyle, it was going to be a damn good one.

            I twined my fingers in Kyle’s hair as he broke our kiss. He began a trail of kisses from my neck and continued down to the valley of my breasts. He placed his hand on the small of my back, pulling me closer to him as he attacked me again with a kiss. He dug his fingers into both sides of my waist, lifting me off of him with ease, and tossing me onto the bed. He was above me then, staring down at me with pure hunger and passion in his eyes.

            Only that time when I looked into them, they looked black.

            His hands moved up my skirt, feeling and grasping closer to my entrance than I was comfortable with.

            I pulled away from him, smacking his hands away.

            “Kyle, what the hell are you doing?” I all but shrieked.

            He smiled down at me.

            “I’m giving you what you want, baby,” he said, grinning. His eyes bored into mine, and I shook my head.

            He reached for his belt and began taking off his pants. I sat still, frozen. When Kyle touched me again, I could have sworn that his hands were ice cold. He untucked my blouse from the inside of my skirt and began pulling it up.

            “Are you going to help me with this?” he asked. “I can’t exactly take your shirt off if your hands are frozen at your side.”

            I shook my head as he struggled to get my arms at an angle that would make it easy for him to remove my blouse.

            “I don’t know if I want this, Kyle,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

            He gave up the battle with my arms and sat still, staring at me. He placed his hands on either side of my face, pulling me closer to him.          

            “Nickayla, look at me,” he urged.

            I closed my eyes.

            I didn’t want to look into those eyes again. I didn’t want to see what brewed behind them, didn’t want to feel what anger was buried deep inside his soul. He wasn’t the Kyle that I knew, wasn’t the Kyle that I loved, and definitely wasn’t the guy that I wanted to lose my virginity to.

            “Nic,” he pleaded.

            I opened my eyes, and everything that I feared was reflected in his eyes. I had no idea what was going on in his head, but it couldn’t be good. It seemed as though whatever hunger was festering within him was insatiable.

            “You love me, don’t you?” Kyle asked.

            I nodded. “Yes, of course,” I said. “But I’m not ready.”

            He kissed my neck again, groaning as he did so. I was Jell-O beneath his touch as he succeeded in removing my blouse. He unzipped my skirt and pulled it down, grinning at the sight of me only in my bra and panties.

            He grazed my body with kisses, but he wasn’t being gentle anymore.

            He kissed me from my neck all the way down to my abdomen. His hands slowly moved themselves up my inner thigh, and I jerked at his touch.

            “Kyle, wait,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want to do this.”
            He sighed, but he didn’t stop.

            “You love me, don’t you, Nic?” he asked. “If you love me, this should be exactly what you want.”

            I shook my head.

            “I don’t want to do this,” I said.

            If only that were enough to stop him.

…

            I didn’t cry. I wouldn’t cry.

            Not in front of Kyle anyway.

            What had happened to him? I didn’t know who he was anymore, even as he slept next to me, the look of absolute peace residing in his features.

            I sat up, Ben’s flat sheet wrapped around my torso. My eyes skimmed the room for my bra. I grabbed it, putting it on as quickly and quietly as was possible. I walked over to Ben’s dresser, rummaging through it for a t-shirt, for something, anything to put on. I didn’t want to put my own clothes back on. That was too disgusting to fathom. I wanted to burn the outfit, to be honest.

            I grabbed one and tugged it on, scooping up my heels as I raced out the door of Ben’s bedroom.

            Everybody seemed to have left hours ago, and Ben and Taylor were asleep on the sofa. It was strange, really. The entire house was silent, but I could still hear that damned song ringing in my ears. I tiptoed past their sleeping figures, easing myself out the front door quietly.

            Once I got to my car, I didn’t look back, not even once. I raced down the back streets until I reached my house. I got choked up just seeing it.            

            Finally. Finally.           

            I didn’t think I’d ever see it again for a moment there.

            I walked around the back of my house to the backdoor that was adjacent to the stairs that led to my room. I pilfered through my purse, searching desperately for my keys. When I found them, I unlocked the door, racing through it and up the stairs.

            I silently prayed that my twin brother, Nikkolas, had stayed out with his friends all night. I pushed his bedroom door open slightly, and breathed a sigh of relief when I noticed that his bed was still made up.

            I’d give him hell in the morning. At that moment, I didn’t care where he was, or what he was doing.

            I burst through the door of my bedroom, dropping all my belongings on the floor as I shut my door. I trudged over to my bed, and collapsed into it, wrapping a blanket around myself. I grabbed my body pillow, clutching it to my chest. I held onto it like it was my life preserver.

            I closed my eyes, willing away all my feelings from that night, my thoughts of Kyle, the look in his eyes as he hovered above me, taking from me something that didn’t belong to him.

            A lump rose in my throat as I regarded how dirty, how unworthy he’d made me feel.

            I’d said I didn’t want to.

            I’d said I wasn’t comfortable.

            I’d said that I wanted him to stop.

            No.

            I wasn’t going to cry.

            I promised myself that I wasn’t going to cry. I promised myself that I wasn’t going to show any emotion. I promised myself that I wouldn’t let myself really feel it.

            I promised myself that I wasn’t going to cry.

            The tears came anyway.

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