Love Redeemed Read online

  Love Redeemed

  By

  Lindsey Beck

  Published by Lindsey Beck at Smashwords

  Copyright © 2011 Lindsey Beck

  Cover Photo © Jorge Centellas - Dreamstime.com - used with permission

  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 Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Chapter One

  Matthew stared in disbelief. He swore he felt his jaw drop a few more inches than normal. Quickly, he retreated back into the bookstore and hid between the shelves at the glass window front. He held his breath as the familiar and graceful blond stooped to admire the beautiful artwork on his bike.

  Matthew was accustomed to the crowd that his bike, Angel, usually drew, but this time it was different. This time, his beloved hand crafted motorcycle, had drawn someone from his past. Someone who knew his bike - or at least the artwork on his bike - better than he did.

  He hadn’t seen her in over eight years, but time hadn’t changed the knee jerk reaction he possessed when around her. He didn’t need to see her face to confirm it was her. He knew her as well as he knew himself. Eight years didn’t change a lifetime of knowledge.

  He watched as she gently reached out and touched the images of angels that graced the fenders on his motorcycle. She traced their arching upturned faces, her fingertips soon followed the breadth of their wings. Slowly, she made her way to the tiny initials engraved at the back tip of the fender as if she was searching for confirmation that this was indeed the bike she had once painted.

  She shifted slightly and he could see her face. Her lips pursed, momentarily and then smiled. He felt like he had been kicked in the gut. The smile was radiantly triumphant.. She stood and cast hurried glances about the small town square, looking for him. When she didn’t immediately see him, she leaned against the bike, took a long sip of her coffee and then crossed her arms.

  Matthew silently cursed. She wasn’t going to let this go. His heart rate picked up. He would just wait her out. But just as the thought crossed his mind, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He wouldn’t be able to wait her out. The store was closing soon and it would look suspicious if he stayed any longer, especially after he had already made his purchases.

  He also couldn’t stay away from her.

  Even as she drained the rest of her coffee, Matthew was already heading out the door. His strong self control vanished. He scowled, already angry with himself for falling back into temptation. She was worse than any drug he had ever encountered and he should know. There was no breaking his addiction to her. There was no amount of detox time that could cure him. He would never fully gotten her out of his system. Eight years had not been enough time - there would never be enough time…

  He berated himself. Called himself every kind of fool in the short walk across the street. He should stay away from her. He should get as far away from her as he could. She deserved that. She deserved far better than anything he could ever give her.

  He told himself all these things and more as he approached. His anger of his own weakness deepened. She looked up as his shadow fell across her. The air left his lungs when she smiled up at him.

  “Hello, Matthew.”

  “You should be careful about sitting on someone’s bike. You never know who it might belong to,” his tone was harsher than he intended and hated himself for it.

  She only shrugged. “You would never sell it. How have you been, Matty?”

  Tiny shivers ran up his arm. He hadn’t heard that nickname since he left. “Good. I guess. How have you been, Janie?”

  “Better,” she cryptically answered.

  But Matthew didn’t dwell on her answer. He needed to get this over with or he was going to do something he would regret. “How’s Jake?”

  Janie laughed. “Married to Shelley. They’re on kid number five now.”

  Involuntarily, Matthew’s eyes fell to Janie’s left hand. The ring check didn’t go unnoticed. Janie was amused when he met her gaze again. So much for not doing something he would regret. What was it about her that tempted him so much? He could hold out against anything - including a lethal addiction to meth and cocaine - but he couldn’t resist her.

  “D-Does he still have the shop?”

  Janie nodded. “Misses his best painter, but he’s doing fairly well.”

  “Are you still painting?”

  “No,” she quietly answered, glancing down. “No, not anymore.”

  “I’ve gotta go,” Matthew abruptly muttered, reaching over and grabbing his helmet off the back of his motorcycle.

  Her head snapped up and sorrow filled her deep brown gaze. “Are you sure? I mean we could get some coffee and catch up a little,“ she nodded to the small bistro behind her. “My treat.”

  “I don’t think that would be a great idea, Janie. Besides, it looks like you‘ve already finished off yours,” he softly said, indicating her empty cup.

  Janie shrugged and tossed the cup into a nearby trash can. “Still scared of me, Matty?”

  He chuckled. “A little. Yeah.”

  “It was really good to see you again, Matty.”

  “Yeah, you too.”

  Before he realized it, Janie had slipped into his arms and he was embracing her. She was still as warm as he remembered and she smelt so good. His breath hitched as she gently squeezed. He didn’t remember - didn’t want to remember - how perfectly she fit against him.

  “I’ve really missed you,” she whispered, pulling back a fraction to place a kiss on his cheek. She hesitated a brief moment, her lips lingering against his rough stubble. Matthew knew she felt the tremble that ran through him that time and her eyes softened as they met his. Matthew’s arms involuntarily tightened around her.

  Janie’s soft lips grazed across his own and he couldn’t stop himself. He kissed her back. She tasted wonderful - like the home he had never known growing up. She made him forget the past - the foster homes, the drugs, his cravings. Unthinkingly, he deepened the kiss and pressed himself closer to her. He was oblivious to any consequences. She made him forget himself. It was all about her. Always had been.

  He had only felt this way one other time in his life. It was the last time he had kissed her.

  He had to let her go. This wasn’t good. He couldn’t forget himself. He had been strong once before and he had to do what was best for her. He couldn’t let his own selfishness get in the way again. He couldn’t betray her. She was Janie, the little sister he had never had.

  But as she kissed him back, he knew he didn’t feel anything brotherly towards her. And he knew he couldn’t let this continue. With a stifled groan, he stepped back away from her, breaking her hold.

  “Good grief, Janie. Did you have to go and do that?” he callously bit out as he tried to catch his breath.

  “You kissed me back.” Her breath was just as uneven as his own. Oddly, he was pleased.

  “I told you a long time ago. It’s not the same for me. Never has been and never will be. Move on, Janie, and forget about me.”

  He would have been blind not to miss the hurt that flashed through her eyes, but she covered it well. She half-heartedly shrugged. She stepped up onto the curb and walked a few paces from him.

  “I do miss you, Matthew.”

  “Yeah, well, you shouldn’t.”

  Janie sighed in defeat. “I work in town.” She waved to some shops a few blocks from them. “I can’t and will
not forget you, Matthew Aaron Chambers and when you quit lying to yourself about how you feel towards me, then look me up.”

  She spun around and began to leave.

  He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her petite frame as it moved away from him and Matthew kicked himself for watching her. She paused at a store-front, glancing over her shoulder back to him. She grinned as she realized he was watching her. She waved, threw open the door and disappeared.

  Matthew cursed for the second time today. He threw a leg over his motorcycle and revved it into high gear. He should have known nothing good would come of his shopping trip in town today. He pedaled the bike back out of the parking space and sped off down the streets.

  The sign on the door was burned into his memory.

  Photography by Janie

  He scowled. She owned the studio that was only eight blocks from his clinic.

  Janie flipped the lock on the door and quickly closed the blinds. Leaning against the door, she let out a long slow breath and closed her eyes. She couldn’t take another run in with Matthew right now. She just couldn’t.

  Brushing away stray tears, she pushed herself away from the door and back towards the dark room. She had work to do. God help her, she needed to get that kiss out of her mind.

  Never had she felt so alive as she did when she kissed Matthew. She couldn’t help thinking that this was how it was supposed to be - to feel between a man and a woman. But Matthew didn’t see it that way. He let the past cloud whatever future they might have had.

  Truth was, Janie knew about his past. She had lived through most of the nightmare with him. And she didn’t care. She loved him. Nothing would ever change that and nothing would ever change Matthew’s mind.

  Janie mixed the acrid chemicals together, the old fashioned smells brought forth a soothing aroma. At least for Janie they did. Since the digital camera explosion, it was rare for any photographer to develop or use film anymore. In truth, Janie utilized digital prints for the majority of her work, but there was something about developing her own film. She loved watching the images come to life under her own careful ministrations. Her dark room was where most of her masterpieces were brought to life.

  She had bought this studio a year ago. She lived in the loft above it, so overhead was considerably cheaper. She sighed. Not that she needed it to be cheaper. It was really just more convenient. She had traveled for most of her career, selling photographs to agencies, magazines, newspapers and more recently the private market.

  She had met her broker, Collette, a few years ago at a showing where her work was a small feature. Collette had fallen in love with her altruistic abilities to capture the true nature of an object. Collette, in her zaniness, called it an artist’s eye. Janie just called it a lucky gift. Despite their differences, Collette had begged to sell some of her photographs.

  Janie had reluctantly agreed and the rest was history. Thanks to Collette, Janie’s work was now widely recognized and was in high demand. She was able to keep her traveling to a minimum and open up a small studio.

  She had loved the feel of the keys in her hands when the real estate agent had closed the deal. She hadn’t had roots in over eight years. She had finally had a place for herself and she had worked for the last year to make the multi-level facility home.

  She lived in the loft upstairs, worked in the studio on the ground level, and reserved the downstairs basement as her own private sanctuary, her dark room. Janie used the store-front for fun. She loved to take pictures of families, babies, graduations, and weddings. It provided her with a steady income so that she didn’t have to touch her investments and left her with enough time for her more serious works that Collette always demanded.

  The last eight years had been hard for her, but she had started to settle down in this small town. It had been a quiet respite from some of the demons that had haunted her until today.

  Janie shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts as she began to expose the film. She hadn’t dated anyone since Matthew. How could she? He was the only one she wanted to be with and he wasn’t easy to forget.

  How could she forget the man that had at by her deathbed reading the bible to her? How could she forget that he was the first one she saw when she woke from her coma? How could she forget how well he had taken care of her? Or helped her face and overcome a bleak future as a paraplegic?

  And how could she forget how she felt when he kissed her?

  He was much more than just a memory for her or a childhood crush, but even after eight years Matthew still didn’t see that.

  Chapter Two

  Rewind Eight Years

  Matthew Chambers smiled as the cantankerous engine started on the first try. He revved the engine, sending deafening tones throughout the parking lot. Dark smoke snaked out from the exhaust, but his grin only grew broader. Because after today, he would never have to drive this truck again. Well, with the exception of rain and extreme cold weather.

  No, today, his beautiful, handcrafted motorcycle would be finished.

  Matthew released the clutch and effortlessly drove the truck out of his parking space. He rolled down the windows, ignoring the strong exhaust fumes. Instead, he gratefully breathed them in, almost savoring them. Two years ago, his life had been like this old truck. Broken…barely running…sputtering on deathly fumes…

  He would have never dreamed he would even still be alive. Detoxed and supposedly cured of his drug addictions, rehab had released him onto the streets. An orphan most of his life, he had no where to go…no one to help him…and he had nearly turned back…

  But God had rescued him. And Matthew knew down to core of his being where he would be if God had not intervened. He remembered that day as clearly as the moment he had lived it. And he remembered the angel that had picked him up.

  Stepping out of the rehab center, Matthew’s red ringed eyes had reacted violently against the harsh sunlight. He hadn’t checked his reflection before leaving that day. He already knew how terrible he looked and he knew it was worse in the daylight. He looked like a dead man. He should have been a dead man.

  But that hadn’t stopped her. Matthew shook his head. Nothing could have stopped her. He barely caught the motorcycle helmet she threw at him, but he obeyed her command to put it on. When he had asked her the most obvious question - why was she here - she had responded with the most obvious answer.

  “Love doesn’t stop just because we’ve messed up.”

  She’d peeled off her gloves at that point and held up her hand. He had squinted to see the old scar. He looked down at his own hand. A matching scar shimmered faintly in the sunlight. Funny, how he had forgotten that. He had forgotten a lot in his drug induced stupors.

  “Blood siblings…Remember? We’re never alone.”

  And he had not been alone since then. It had been a childish pact made when he was seven years old and desperate to belong to a family. But Janie and her brother, Jacob, had never forgotten. And he would always be eternally grateful.

  Janie and Jacob opened up a new world to him - gave him an opportunity to recover from the deadly blows that alcoholism and drug addictions had dealt him. And they had opened up the world of eternity to him as well.

  Matthew glanced down at his arm, appreciating the dark inked artwork that stretched across his arm. The simple cross was haloed with thorns and wreathed in roses. He wanted to never forget the glorious wonder of the cross or what his God had given for him. The ugly needle marks were gone now. The beautiful work of the cross covered both his sins and the horrible scars that reminded him of his sins.

  Jacob was waiting for him as he pulled up in front of the small motorcycle shop. Matthew cut the engine to the truck and quickly climbed out. Anticipation was quickly building in his blood. He had never finished a project…never felt the pride of a job well done…until now.

  He had waited nearly a week for this moment. After a year’s worth of long nights, he had handed his bike over to the paint shop with specific instructions
. He could have had the bike back sooner, but he had wanted only one particular painter to work on it. And that painter was busy - having to work this bike into the schedule. He had thought it might take longer than a week…maybe even a month or two for the painter to work his bike in, but Jake had called this afternoon. The bike was ready.

  Matthew studied his friend and for the first time, noticed the deep scowl marking his face. “I didn’t think the bike would be finished this soon. I hope it wasn’t an inconvenience…”

  Jake shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. “You knew Janie wasn’t going to let your bike wait, Matty. She was chomping at the bit to get your bike done. I had to make her concentrate on the customer’s she had slated for this week,” Jake shook his head again. A sigh escaped from his lips. “Don’t be upset when you see the bike…”

  “Janie’s work is always exceptional…” Matthew began to argue. He had never seen such God-given talent before. He had seen countless motorcycles leave this shop with her exquisite work painted on the fenders of the bikes. Her work went deeper than the intricate etchings she applied to the metal canvases. It touched the rider - encompassed something of a mysterious truth from inside the motorcycle’s soul. And even though, he couldn’t afford some of her more intricate work, it was the reason he wanted her - and only her - touching the motorcycle he had built from scratch.

  Jake held up a hand, stopping his argument. “It’s not that the work isn’t good, Matthew. It’s good! Very good. Probably the best that she’s ever done,” he paused, distracted by his errant thought‘s. “It’s just…not what you asked for.”

  Matthew swallowed hard, moving his gaze to the horizon. He slowly nodded. He trusted Janie like no one else. She had been there when no one else had been there. She had stood beside him…even when the temptation and the need for drugs had been at its worst. She had held his hand, comforted him, and helped heal some of his spiritual scars.

  If she had altered his plans for his bike, he would simply accept it because he…Matthew stopped his wayward thoughts and pulled himself back to reality. Jake had started back inside the shop, slowly turning on the shop lights.