Severed Dreams Read online

  Severed Dreams

  Becca Jameson

  Copyright © 2022 by Becca Jameson

  Cover Artist: originalsyn

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. And resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Newsletter

  Acknowledgments

  About the Book

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Epilogue

  Also by Becca Jameson

  About the Author

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  Acknowledgments

  There have been so many people involved in making this book a reality. It’s been years. It took months to write it and then I pulled it out and tinkered with it every six months or so, never feeling like I got it “right.”

  * * *

  I want to thank my family for tirelessly listening to me yap about this book often for years. They also had to trip over the white boards with colorful sticky notes all over them for…again years.

  * * *

  To my amazing beta readers, thank you so much for your kind words of encouragement, especially Linda and my proofreader, Allison. You both made me feel more confident.

  * * *

  Thanks to Syneca from Originalsyn for the cover. I gave her like two sentences of information and she rocked the hell out of that cover!

  About the Book

  I’m having dreams I can’t explain—nightmares of faceless people watching me on what should be the most important day of my life.

  Something really bad happened to me. So bad that I can’t quite piece anything together. It’s making me paranoid. I swear I’m being watched all the time.

  Ever since the dreams started, nothing in my life makes sense. I don’t trust my instincts. I’m not sure I trust anyone around me. Not even my family. They mean well. But they treat me with kid gloves as if I’m fragile. Maybe I am…

  Whatever happened, it’s over and I have to move on. I need to get back to work at my family’s department store. Instead, my parents and my sister insist I convalesce at the beach. And I don’t trust them enough to tell them about my relationship with Bryon, a man I was instantly attracted to who seems to have secrets of his own.

  I need closure and a new normal. I’m trying, but it’s hard when everything feels wrong and I don’t even know who I am anymore. Why can’t I get my life back on track? I’m young. I have my entire life ahead of me. It seems like no one wants me to move on. I’m stuck. In limbo. As if I’m outside my body watching.

  And whoever is watching me is getting closer every day.

  This romantic suspense will take you on a ride that will have your mind questioning EVERYTHING! Prepare to search for the answers with Jessa before tragedy strikes again.

  Prologue

  After

  * * *

  July 2014

  * * *

  I was smiling so broadly as I stood at the back of the church prepared to head down the aisle.

  This was it. My wedding day. The most important day of my life. Everything was perfect. My dress was gorgeous and fit me like a glove. The church was filled with all my friends and family. At the front of the church stood my bridesmaids, the groomsmen, and my fiancé.

  I couldn’t wait to get to him. He was my world. My life. My everything.

  This would be the first day of the rest of our lives. In sickness and in health ’til death do us part and all that.

  The music started, my cue to walk toward the front of the church. I took a step and wobbled before regaining my footing. Something was wrong. Why was I alone? Why wasn’t my father at my side? I should have my arm tucked in his elbow, using him as support.

  I tried to keep the smile on my face as I slowly stepped forward, one foot in front of the other, trying to remember why my father wasn’t with me. I glanced from side to side, searching for him. Was he in the pews?

  I frowned and blinked as I scanned the crowd. Everyone was dressed in their finest. I could see their amazing suits and dresses but I couldn’t seem to focus on anyone’s face.

  Maybe I was wearing a veil and it was blurring my vision. I didn’t want to let go of my bouquet to verify.

  As I approached the front of the church, I sought out my fiancé. I wanted to watch his expression so I would know what he thought about my dress. I blinked again. He was there. He was dressed in a tux. He looked so handsome, but I couldn’t see his face.

  I jerked my gaze to the rest of the wedding party. Everyone stood in their spots, perfectly still. No one had a face. My heart started to beat faster as I reached the front of the church. The minister was also faceless.

  I glanced to the right. My mom and sister were in the front pew, at least I thought it was them. They had the right bodies. They too had no faces.

  What was wrong with my eyes? I blinked several times. The music began to fade. There were no other sounds. I kept walking forward, but I couldn’t reach my fiancé. He was always a few paces away.

  I finally lifted one hand to rub my eyes, trying not to smear my mascara. When I blinked again, everyone was even further away. I couldn’t hear them. They were fading. I could see through their bodies.

  I spun around. The pews were empty now. No one was in the seats. What was happening?

  When I faced front again, I was alone. There was no groom, no bridesmaids. No one. No music. Nothing. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing my vision and hearing to return.

  It felt like I was underwater, trapped, alone. I couldn’t find my voice. My lips were moving but no sound came out.

  Until I managed to scream.

  * * *

  I bolted awake, my eyes opening wide. I was gasping for breath, sweating and shaking. Shit. Another nightmare.

  The covers were too heavy. I needed air. I shoved the blankets aside, flung my legs over the edge of the bed, and pushed to standing. I was weak and trembling as I made my way to the family room and the sliding glass doors.

  By the time I managed to unlock and shove the door open with my fumbling fingers, I was frantic. I rushed out onto the balcony, panting. I grabbed the railing of my small balcony and leaned forward in the warm Miami air, trying to catch my breath.

  It took a long time to settle my pounding heart. I shivered as the night air cooled my skin. My tank top was wet with sweat. Sadness was heavy on my heart.

  I hated that dream. I had it at least once a week. It was always different but every time I was aware it was my wedding and something was very very wrong. It left me feeling shattered and lonely.

  As I pulled myself together, I took several deep breaths before jerking my gaze up to scan the courtyard and surrounding apartment buildings. I had the sensation I was being watched. This happened often too. It was equally disturbing.

  With a sigh, I turned and headed back into my apartment to secure the door. I peered through the glass once more. It was the middle of the night. There was almost no chance anyone had been watching me. No lights were on in any of the surrounding units, and no one was wandering through the courtyard.

  There were few constants in my weird new existence, but the nightmare and the paranoia were two of them. I hated both. I just wanted my life back, whatever that might look like.

  Chapter One

  After

  * * *

  August 2014

  * * *

  I felt a presence behind me but ignored it as I continued to sketch. You’re being paranoid again. There’s no one watching you.

  Shaking the absurd feeling that someone was following me, I glanced at the ocean. The cool breeze coming off the beach felt wonderful against my skin. I wasn’t in the mood for an interruption. Hell, I hadn’t been in the mood for any sort of disruption to my lazy life as a beach bum for the three months since I’d moved to Miami Beach.

  The early morning was my favorite time of day when the beach was not yet crowded with tourists and I could be alone with my drawings and my thoughts. Plus it could get quite hot in August on the beach. I usually retreated to my apartment as soon as sweat ran down my b
ack.

  The only people on the beach this early were joggers or folks scanning the beach in search of a treasure.

  I loved to listen to the waves crashing around me while I sketched. Soothing. Relaxing. It kept me centered in my peculiar upside-down world.

  I closed my eyes and held my pencil still as I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Someone really was approaching me this time. I willed the person to pass me by.

  No such luck.

  I tensed. I wasn’t in the mood for small talk with anyone. I’d become reclusive since moving to the beach. It was intentional.

  “Wow, that’s amazing.” The man behind me broke into my concentration.

  I turned my head, my instinctive need to be polite winning out over the urge to tell the man to take a hike. Shocking me, the man who met my gaze took my breath away. Totally unexpected. Not one man had turned my head or gotten my attention in months. I preferred it that way. I was still convalescing, so to speak, from the abrupt turn life had taken.

  Men were not on my radar. So far from it.

  Hell, humans weren’t on my radar. I’d become a loner.

  The only person I regularly saw was my sister. She lived in the building next to mine. And she treated me with the kid gloves I probably needed.

  But this man…

  This man was gorgeous. Or perhaps it was just his smile. It captivated me.

  He pointed at the drawing under my palm. “You’re very talented.”

  “Thank you.” Half of me didn’t want to encourage him. The other half was drawn to him. The dimple on his cheek endearing. He was harmless. I needed to lighten up. A little human contact wouldn’t kill me.

  And if I wanted to start lifting my face to the world again, I couldn’t imagine a better specimen stepping up to the plate.

  He squatted beside me, his gaze still on my sketch. He oozed masculinity in a way that didn’t seem quite fitting for a stroll on the beach this early in the morning. He wore khaki dress slacks and a white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. No one dressed that way on the beach. My gaze roamed down to his feet—bare, his toes digging into the sand.

  Appropriate morning attire on the beach included jogging shorts or swim trunks.

  He shifted his gaze to the rising sun. “It’s so beautiful out here in the morning.”

  I stared at him with an urge to ask him to stay very still so I could sketch him instead of the designs I was gathering from my imagination. He was that beautiful.

  The thought was ludicrous since I didn’t draw people. I drew clothes. Maybe if I had a sketch of him instead of ten thousand dresses, I would have something entertaining to enjoy in my apartment.

  I told myself my attraction to him was based purely on looks, a gorgeous subject matter. There was nothing wrong with that. He was tall and slender. A businessman. I guessed he probably worked in an office. Not much time for sun or working out.

  “Are you a professional designer?” he asked, turning his head in my direction.

  I shrugged. I had no intention of telling him who I was. Every time I met someone, their opinion of me changed the moment they heard my last name. It had been like that my entire life. I’d learned over the years to keep personal information to myself initially.

  “Bryon.” He gave me his name as he held out a hand.

  “Jessa.” I tentatively gave him mine.

  His grip was warm, inviting. A spark ran between us, instantly bringing my entire body to full alert. I licked my lips. He smelled fantastic, his personal scent wafting toward me. He plopped onto the sand, so close our knees bumped. It was crazy. I shouldn’t be so attracted to someone just sitting here on the beach. I shouldn’t be falling for his pickup lines. I shouldn’t be feeling anything at all. But I was human.

  I couldn’t stop myself. I closed my sketchbook, making a conscious decision to engage this intruder instead of brushing him off. If nothing else, the interaction with another living being felt surprisingly good.

  My life needed changes. I’d been reclusive for too long. It seemed appropriate to put myself out there. After all, I was just flirting. After three months with very little human contact, it felt good to have someone approach me, even if it was a stranger on his way to work. It was refreshing. Maybe speaking to someone who knew nothing about me or my life would somehow be freeing. I didn’t need to divulge any personal details to the man. I could simply enjoy his company like a regular human being.

  My heart beat faster as I watched his slow smile spread across his face. He made me feel alive again. I grabbed onto that feeling and ran with it. “Is this how you always dress for the beach?” I teased. His pants rode up his legs enough to reveal pale feet that matched his pale forearms. He clearly didn’t spend much time in the sun. Either that or he had an unusually light complexion that burned easily.

  He chuckled, a deep sound that vibrated through him and reached into me when our knees bumped again. “No. I was on my way to work. Decided to stop and take in the view first.” His gaze met mine and held it.

  What view was he talking about? I had my suspicions. But then again, he couldn’t have known I was sitting in that spot when he made the decision to stop at the beach.

  “Where do you work?”

  “On the mainland.”

  Ah. Of course. Few people worked on Miami Beach itself. But he hadn’t really answered my question.

  “Who do you design for?” He pointed at my sketchbook.

  I shrugged again, biting my lower lip while I tried to come up with a feasible answer without giving myself away. “I’m mostly doing freelance right now.”

  He hesitated, his brow furrowed for a moment before he nodded. His short-cropped wavy blond hair was perfectly styled and lay as if he’d just stepped off a photoshoot. And his smile took my breath away. His eyes were a rare, deep green. Mesmerizing. I couldn’t look away from them.

  Did he not buy my lie? Jeez, I wasn’t that bad, was I? “Do you live on the island?” I supposed the term “freelance” coming from a woman lounging on the beach on a weekday morning could equal “unemployed.”

  “Yes.” He pointed at the apartment complex behind us, the one I lived in. “I have an apartment here.”

  That made more sense. It wasn’t that he’d driven up to the beach and stopped on his way to work. He hadn’t left for work yet.

  “Maybe this is too forward, but I was just about to grab a coffee in the strip. Would you care to join me?”

  I smiled at him, pondering the offer. What would it hurt? It was just coffee. I tried to shake off the feeling of regret I carried like a heavy weight. I was in no mood to tell this stranger anything about myself. I would keep the previous year of my life tucked close to my chest. I had no desire to discuss it. Or face it. Hell, I had no desire to discuss much of anything about my past. Forward was the only direction I needed to be moving.

  Whoever this Bryon guy was, he simply smiled at me, waiting for my answer.

  Finally, I nodded my consent. “Sure.”

  Normally this would be way outside my comfort zone, but I felt bold, and what could go wrong? It wasn’t as though he could abduct me from the beach in broad daylight, or the coffee shop under the apartment building. Not to mention the fact that I had absolutely nothing to do since my parents seemed determined to coddle me. Hell, even my sister was continually telling me to take it easy and relax in her overly cheery voice.