Come Back to Me (Come Back to Me #1)by Mila Gray
Publisher: Simon Pulse
Release Date: December 8th 2015
Genre: Young Adult, New Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Drama, War, Fiction, Death
Synopsis:
In this heart-wrenching tale of love and loss, a young Marine and his best friend’s sister plunge into a forbidden love affair while he’s home on leave.
When a Marine Chaplain knocks on her door, Jessa’s heart breaks—someone she loves is dead. Killed in action, but is it Riley or Kit? Her brother or her boyfriend…
Three months earlier, Marine Kit Ryan finds himself back home on leave and dangerously drawn to his best friend Riley’s sister, Jessa—the one girl he can’t have. Exhausted from fighting his feelings, Kit finally gives in, and Jessa isn’t strong enough to resist diving headfirst into a passionate relationship.
But what was just supposed to be a summer romance develops into something far greater than either of them expected. Jessa’s finally found the man of her dreams and Kit’s finally discovered there’s someone he’d sacrifice everything for.
When it’s time for Kit to redeploy, neither one is ready to say goodbye. Jessa vows to wait for him and Kit promises to come home to her. No matter what.
But as Jessa stands waiting for the Marine Chaplain to break her heart, she can’t help but feel that Kit has broken his promise…
Riley or Kit? Kit or Riley? Her brother or her boyfriend? Who’s coming home to her?
Chapter 1
Jessa
A whorl in the glass
distorts the picture, like a thumbprint smear over a lens. I’m halfway down the
stairs, gathering my hair into a ponytail, thoughts a million miles away, when
a blur outside the window pulls me up short.
I take another step, the
view clears, and when I realize what I’m seeing, who I’m seeing, my stomach
plummets and the air leaves my lungs like a final exhalation. My arms fall
slowly to my sides. My body’s instinct is to turn and run back upstairs, to
tear into the bathroom and lock the door, but I’m frozen. This is the moment
you have nightmares about, play over in your mind, the darkest of daydreams,
furnished by movies and by real-life stories you’ve overheard your whole life.
You imagine over and
over how you’ll cope, what you’ll say, how you’ll act when you open the door
and find them standing there. You pray to every god you can dream up that this
moment won’t ever happen. You make bargains, promises, desperate barters. And
you live each day with the murmur of those prayers playing on a loop in the
background of your mind, an endless chant. And then the moment happens and you
realize it was all for nothing. The prayers went unheard. There was no bargain
to make. Was it your fault? Did you fail to keep your promise?
Time seems to have
slowed. Kit’s father hasn’t moved. He’s standing at the end of the driveway
staring up at the house, squinting against the early morning glare. He’s
wearing his Dress Blues. It’s that fact which registered before all else, which
told me all I needed to know. That and the fact that he’s here at all. Kit’s
father has never once been to the house. There is only one reason why he would
ever come.
He hasn’t taken a step
and I will him not to. I will him to turn around and get back into the dark
sedan car sitting at the kerb. A shadowy figure in uniform sits at the wheel.
Please. Get back in and drive away. I start making futile bargains with some
nameless god. If he gets back in the car and drives away, I’ll do anything. But
he doesn’t. He takes a step down the driveway towards the house, and that’s
when I know for certain that either Riley or Kit is dead.
A scream, or maybe a
sob, tries to struggle up my throat, but it’s blocked by a solid wave of
nausea. I grab for the banister to stay upright. Who? Which one? My brother or
my boyfriend? Oh God. Oh God. My legs are shaking. I watch Kit’s father walk
slowly up the drive, head bowed.
Memories, images, words,
flicker through my mind like scratched fragments of film: Kit’s arms around my
waist drawing me closer, our first kiss under the cover of darkness just by the
back door, the smile on his face the first time we slept together, the blue of
his eyes lit up by the sparks from a Chinese lantern, the fierceness in his
voice when he told me he was going to love me forever.
Come back to me. That
was the very last thing I said to him. Come back to me.
Always. The very last
thing he said to me.
Then I see Riley as a
kid throwing a toy train down the stairs, dive-bombing into the pool, holding my
hand at our grandfather’s funeral, grinning and high-fiving Kit after they’d
enlisted. The snapshot of him in his uniform on graduation day. The circles
under his eyes the last time I saw him.
The door buzzes. I jump.
But I stay where I am, frozen halfway up the stairs. If I don’t answer the door
maybe he’ll go away. Maybe this won’t be happening. But the doorbell sounds
again. And then I hear footsteps on the landing above me. My mother’s voice,
sleepy and confused. ‘Jessa? Who is it? Why are you just standing there?’
Then she sees. She peers
through the window and I hear the intake of air, the ragged ‘no’ she utters in
response. She too knows that a military car parked outside the house at seven
a.m. can signify only one thing.
I turn to her. Her hand
is pressed to her mouth. Standing in her nightdress, her hair unbrushed, the
blood rushing from her face, she looks like she’s seen a ghost. No. That’s
wrong. She looks like she is a ghost.
The bell buzzes for a
third time.
‘Get the door, Jessa,’
my mother says in a strange voice I don’t recognize. It startles me enough that
I start to walk down the stairs. I feel calmer all of a sudden, like I’m
floating outside my body. This can’t be happening. It’s not real. It’s just a
dream.
I find myself standing
somehow in front of the door. I unlock it. I open it. Kit. Riley. Kit. Riley.
Their names circle my mind like birds of prey in a cloudless blue sky. Kit.
Riley. Which is it? Is Kit’s father here in his Dress Blues with his Chaplain
insignia to tell us that my brother has been killed in action or that his son –
my boyfriend – has been killed in action? He would come either way. He would
want to be the one to tell me. He would want to be the one to tell my mom.
Kit’s father blinks at
me. He’s been crying. His eyes are red, his cheeks wet. He’s still crying, in
fact. I watch the tears slide down his face and realize that I’ve never seen
him cry before. It automatically makes me want to comfort him, but even if I
could find the words my throat is so dry I couldn’t speak them.
‘Jessa,’ Kit’s father
says in a husky voice.
I hold onto the
doorframe, keeping my back straight. I’m aware that my mother has followed me
down the stairs and is standing right behind me. Kit’s father glances at her
over my shoulder. He takes a deep breath, lifts his chin and removes his hat
before his eyes flicker back to me.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says.
‘Who?’ I hear myself
ask. ‘Who is it?’
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Mila Gray is the pen name for Sarah Alderson, author of Hunting Lila, Losing Lila, The Sound, Fated and Out of Control.
Originally from London she has lived in Bali for the last four years with her husband and daughter.
As well as writing young adult fiction under the name Sarah Alderson and adult fiction under the name Mila Gray, she also writes screenplays.
You can find out more at www.milagray.com and on facebook: www.facebook.com/sarahjalderson.
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