Oceans Collide Read online

  OCEANS COLLIDE

  A Novel

  The Ocean Trilogy

  Book One

  by M.A. De Olmos

  Copyright ©2013 by M.A De Olmos at Smashwords

  OCEANS COLLIDE

  By M.A. De Olmos

  Edited by Literary Editor Rogena Mitchell-Jones

  Rogena Mitchell-Jones Manuscript Services

  www.rogenamitchell.com

  Cover Copyright © Cover Design

  by Melody Simmons of eBookindiecovers.com

  Follow Author M.A. De Olmos!

  Twitter — @allensmad

  Facebook — www.facebook.com/m.a.deolmos

  Blog — madeolmos.blog.com

  Pinterest — www.Pinterest.com/MelissaDeOlmos

  Goodreads — www.Goodreads.com/Madeolmos

  EBook Edition, License Notes

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment. EBook copies may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share with a friend, please buy an extra copy, and thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written consent from the publisher, except in the instance of quotes for reviews. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the internet without the publisher’s permission and is a violation of the International copyright law, which subjects the violator to severe fines and imprisonment.

  This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, incidents, and place are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events are entirely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or names features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.

  DEDICATION

  I want to give a big thank you to my amazing family. My five and two year old that put up with mommy always writing on the computer. You are my biggest fans and I love you guys! To all of my inspirations and twitter supporters and the wonderful authors that have encouraged me to continue writing. I thank you for your faith in me.

  To the readers. I am sharing my stories for you, and I cannot thank you enough for giving this book a chance!

  Thank you,

  M.A De Olmos

  OCEANS COLLIDE PLAYLIST

  Rihanna — What Now

  Ellie Goulding — Explosions

  Ellie Goulding — Burn

  Ellie Goulding — Hanging On

  B.O.B — Airplanes

  Calvin Harris — Sweet Nothing

  Nikki Williams — Glowing

  Selena Gomez — Come and Get It

  Justin Timberlake — Mirrors

  Justin Timberlake — Holy Grail feat Jay Z

  Christ Brown — Don’t Judge Me

  Lana Del Rey — This is What Makes us Girls

  Pink — Sober

  Sebastian Ingrosso/Allesso — Calling

  Sweddish House Mafia — Save the World

  Jay Z feat Frank Ocean — Oceans

  Chris Brown feat Nicki Minaj — Love More

  Eminem — Love the Way You Lie

  Krewella — One Minute

  Bruno Mars — Count on Me

  The Fray — How to Save a Life

  Jason Mraz — I Won’t Give Up

  The Script — Talk You

  The Script — Down

  The Script —This Love

  Matt Nathenson — Come on Get Higher

  2nd Hand Serenade — Fall for You

  Shontelle — Impossible

  The Cab — Intoxicated

  The Cab — Angel with a Shotgun

  Paraschute — Forever and Always — Under Control

  Anthem Lights Cover — As Long As You Love Me

  Maroon 5 — Sunday Morning

  Usher— Moving Mountains

  Souls Collide

  as Hearts Break...

  Prologue

  Two Months Earlier

  The sound of my blaring ringtone startled me awake from my already restless sleep. Rihanna’s What Now song was belting from my iPhone speakers, and I found comfort in the sound. Lately, it had turned into my own personal soundtrack to life so, naturally, I selected it as my ringtone. I was weird like that; every mood, every emotion I felt could be pretty much summed up into a song, or a pretty long playlist of songs.

  As I squint, I reached out and grabbed my cell from my side table. Damn. I wish I had turned it off. Nothing good ever came from answering a call this early in the morning.

  The caller ID read Mommy Dearest, so I let the call go to voice mail. There were only two reasons my mother could be calling me at three a.m. One was she was drunk off her ass and needed my help, or two, she was higher than cloud nine, and she needed my help. Either way, she was in trouble, and I was still the only person that, fortunately for her, gave a shit. I so wish I didn’t! I didn’t bother to call back, because once I didn’t answer, she wouldn’t call again. She never liked admitting to me, or to anyone for that matter, that she needed help, and I was tired of getting hurt trying to help her in the process. Huffing out a breath of aggravation, I rolled off my futon and made my way to the bathroom. Let’s see how fucked up the mommy dearest really is.

  I stepped into the steaming shower. I was in no way rushing to get to my mom’s house. She was lucky I still cared enough to wake my ass up in the first place. The hot water burned my skin as it washed away the dried blood from my thighs. I was a cutter, and no one knew it except for me, myself, and my fucked up mental state, and I planned to keep it that way. Cutting was the only way I could deal with my life; the only way I could numb out the emotional pain that I couldn’t handle.

  The sound of my cell phone blaring again brought me back to the present. Peaking around my hello kitty shower curtain, I saw it was my mom calling again. Shit! Two calls within an hour was bad news. Really bad news.

  Shutting off the water, I grabbed my towel and stepped out of the shower. I refused to look in the mirror because I didn’t want to see the scars. I knew they were there, and I didn’t need to catalogue them in my mind. I only had about three to five scares on each thigh. I tended not to go overboard with cutting, because I had other hobbies that I would use to wear myself out. Kickboxing was one of them. I quickly dried myself off and dressed up my wounds.

  Reaching into my gym bag on my bathroom’s counter, I pulled out a pair of gray sweats and a black camisole. I pulled my hair into a ponytail and grabbed my iPod. I figured after the show at my mom’s I would most likely soon witness a good run that would help to fight off the demons of dealing with her. Stepping out into the hallway of my apartment, I bunched up my nose at the display of nakedness. Sprawled out on the living room sofa was my roommate, Tara and her girlfriend, Sasha. They were butt-ass naked and drooling all over each other. I really have to find a new roommate or move the hell out, period!

  They really didn’t bother me much, and I had nothing against their love affair, but they acted as if they lived in a damn nudist colony. And clearly, this was no damn nudist colony. Making sure I had my cell in hand, I grabbed my keys and pink Nike runners that I had left under the coffee table, and I headed out the door.

  ***

  Living twenty minutes away from my mother was a blessing and a curse all rolled up into one sweet and sour tootsie pop. Slowing down to make the left onto Lancast Ave, I down shifted creeping up on the house. Man, I loved how my beat up Acura purred when I shifted. I swear I s
hould have been born a boy. Maybe my mother wouldn’t hate me so much. Rolling to a stop, I could see burnout marks all over the cracked driveway leading out to the street. All the lights were off except maybe her bedroom light from what I could make out from my car.

  I reached into my inner counsel and pulled out my mace, pocketknife, and my brass knuckles. You’d think I was getting ready to commit a crime, but honestly, the last time I came over unprepared I was almost gang raped by my mom’s company! It wasn’t because she lived in a bad area, either. Dunlap, Illinois was a pretty nice place to live. The company my mother kept around, on the other hand, was downright scary at times. It was much lighter out, so I didn’t feel too edgy walking up to the house. Usually, I could hear my mother’s screaming howls, or a guy (or guys) yelling at her, but tonight it was eerily quiet. I slipped my brass knuckles on and took a deep breath. The time on my phone read three fifty-four a.m., and I proceeded to the front door of the place I once called home.

  I knocked lightly as not wanting to wake her if she were asleep. After a couple of seconds, I knocked again a little harder starting to grow impatient. No answer, no lights switched on. Nothing. I put the house key in the lock and unlocked the door opening it slowly. The house smelled clean which was a pleasant surprise. Usually, it smelled like alcohol or marijuana. Closing the door lightly behind me, I put my keys and cell in the back pocket of my sweats. I ignored the photos placed around the house of my parents and me when we were actually a family. Those kinds of memories only brought pain, and I don’t necessarily deal well with pain.

  Just keep moving and get this over with. I made my way through the posh and well-furnished house all the way up the stairs. “Mom, you up here?” I called out. I didn’t want to walk in on something I had no business seeing. Even though I was twenty-three years old, no one should ever suffer the sight of seeing their mother get fucked doggy style. Ever!

  Reaching her bedroom door that was slightly ajar. I tapped on it with my knuckles. “Mom, its Livie, can I come in?” Still no answer. I tapped harder this time. “Mom! It’s Livie. You okay?” Out of frustration, I swung the door open and scanned the room for anything out of the ordinary. The bed was made and the room was spotless. The smell of pine filled my nostrils.

  The bathroom light was on, and the door was closed. “Mom, if you’re in the bathroom, just say something.” Still no answer. “Mom!” I said a little louder. That’s it. I stormed over to the bathroom door and swung it open. “Mom, what the heck…” I started to yell but froze in terror. My breathing came and went hard and fast. The room started spinning when I fell to my knees next to my mother’s bloodied body. Unable to move, I took in the image of my mom laid out on the bathroom floor with two slit wrists. Her face was snow white, and her lips a pale blue. She wore one of her fancy satin nightgowns and her beautiful black hair was tied into a French braid. On their own will, my hands jerked forward, and I pulled her cold body into my lap. “MOM… MOM! Please, mom, no! You can’t do this to me!” I yelled. “You’re supposed to hate me always. You’re not supposed to kill yourself.” My cries turned hysterical, and I was beginning to lose focus.

  Before I passed out from hyperventilating, I quickly reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone dialing 911 as fast I could.

  “911 What is your emergency?”

  “Yes! My mom... she... sh.”

  “Please calm down, and tell me what happened to your mother?”

  “My mom she needs help! She’s bleeding everywhere. Please send someone to help her!”

  “What is your address, miss?”

  “419 Lancast Ave. Please hurry. I think I’m too late. Please come fast. Please.”

  “Ma’am, the ambulance is on its way. Please stay on th-”

  As soon as I heard the operator say the ambulance was on the way, I threw the phone across the room and screamed. I screamed until my throat felt raw, and I could no longer breathe and then everything went black.

  Chapter One

  Livie

  “Hey, kid, you almost ready to go?” My dad’s Yankee accent called to me from downstairs.

  Staring blankly into my mother’s room, I leaned against the doorframe. “Yeah, Dad. Just give me a second.”

  “You got it, kid,” was the only response I heard. In my hand, I held an envelope that was found on my mother’s dresser the night she died. My name was written on the front in her perfect cursive handwriting.

  I still couldn’t muster the courage to open it… especially, if it’s her suicide letter. I didn’t think I could handle that much pain despite my coping mechanisms or lack there off. At the end of the day, I didn’t want to end up like her. So I decided to wait. I would wait until I was emotionally stable to read the honesty she’d written on this one piece of paper. Until then, I would keep it hidden and locked away with the rest of my demons.

  My dad sold the house after I convinced him that I would not live in it. It was too painful. I was thankful when he didn’t put up a fight about it. He understood me better than I thought; he always did, actually. Taking one last glance at the empty room in front of me I turned on my heels and walked away.

  “Hey, kid. Ready to go now?”

  “Dad, you do know I’m twenty three years old, right?”

  Slapping me on the shoulder, he laughed as if I just said the funniest punch line ever. “You’re twenty three and still my little girl. So get over it, kid,” he said still laughing on his way out of the door. I climbed into his rental car waiting outside and sat in silence for a while. My dad was a great man. I never blamed him for leaving mom and me. He tried to make it work, and stuck it out until I turned eighteen. So I really couldn’t be mad at him for that. I knew he tried and I knew he loved us both. After my eighteenth birthday, he sat me down and gave me two options. He told me I could go live with him in upstate New York, or I could stay with my mother. If I stayed with mom then he would open up a bank account locally so I would never need for anything. At that time, I decided to stay with my mom thinking I could help her. Boy, was I mistaken.

  “Have you thought about coming up to live with me yet?” he asked interrupting my trip down memory lane.

  “Yeah, Dad, I did,” I said shyly. I didn’t want him to think I didn’t want to spend time with him. I just hated the thought of becoming his baggage. After leaving, he turned himself into a very successful and well-known realtor in New York. It was bad enough I was using the money he was setting aside for me. I was twenty-three now not eighteen.

  “Dad, please don’t be upset with me, but I don’t think I can impose on the life you’ve made for yourself.” His lips turned up into a frown. “I think its best I stay here and maybe go back to school. Starting my own business like you’ve done, doesn’t seem like a bad idea either; you know, to keep me busy.” He looked at me with a blank expression. I took it he was trying to figure out how to keep from making me feel bad.

  Once he was done contemplating, he smiled. “Okay, kid, you got it. On one condition though.” Uh oh, here comes the boom. “You have to promise me to come home for all major holidays. I’m serious, Livie.” he said sternly looking at my raised eyebrow. “I’ve already missed so much of your life after you turned eighteen. I can’t live without my Livie.” The laughter that followed made my heart melt. Yes, my dad was a good man, I thought watching him laugh. I took the time to take in my dad’s face. He was forty-two and blessed with some very handsome and good looks. My dad was that tall dark and handsome Latino man all women swooned for. He was born in Brazil, so he had a very exotic look to him. I guess that’s where I got it from too. He had that George Clooney look going for him and at times, I think he actually thought he was Clooney.

  ***

  “All right, kid. Here are the keys to your temporary suite. All your clothes and belongings are there, and you don’t have to worry about Tara. I’ve paid her your half of the rent for the rest of the year.”

  “Dad!” I started but he put his hand up.

  �
�Shut it. I know how much you wanted to move out. Here is your chance to start over. To start fresh,” he said shoving the room cards into my hands.

  “I paid for the first three weeks for your suite. So that’s how much time you have to get yourself together.”

  “Dad, you don’t have to do this. I can take care of myself, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know. I saw the mace, pocket knife, and brass knuckles you keep in your car,” he said frowning at me. I rolled my eyes at him. It was his idea I learned how to defend myself in the first place.

  “I can’t take this, Dad,” I said firmly pushing back the room keys to him.

  “Yeah, okay, kid. You can take this, and you will. I have added all my contacts to your phone. All you have to do is call me for anything, Livie. I will drop everything for you, kid. You do know that, right?” Oh, crap was he getting ready to cry on me.

  “Don’t try to use your bad George Clooney acting on me, Dad.” I joked trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll accept this offer just this time but after this, no more freebies. Okay?”

  “You got it, kid.” He walked me to the set of glass revolving doors of the Four Points Sheraton he pulled in front of. “Give your old man a hug, kid.” I nearly jumped into his arms.

  “Dad, thank you so much for everything. Thank you for always being here for me when I need you most. I mean it. I love you, Dad,” I said into his shoulder. He cleared his throat trying to hold back his tears.

  “Love you more, kid. Take care of yourself, Livie. You don’t have to get through this by yourself. You still got your old man.”

  “I know I do. Now go before you miss your flight. I’ll be okay. Call me when you touch down, too.”