Living in Your Hell Read online

  Living In Your Hell

  Shattered Lives Book Five

  Barb Shuler

  Living In Your Hell (Shattered Lives Series; Book 5)

  © Copyright 2018 Barbara Shuler

  Published by Barbara Shuler

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction which is only recommended for those 18 and older due to violence, strong language and adult content. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, (living or dead), places or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Cover Image by: Lindee Robinson Photography

  Models: Garrett Pentecost & Daria Rottenburke

  Cover Art Design by: Madhat Books

  Edited by: Emily Maynard & Mindy Seal

  Formatted by: Tattered Quill Designs

  Contents

  Other Books by Barb Shuler

  Acknowledgments

  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

  Epilogue

  Living In Your Hell Playlist

  About the Author

  Other Books by Barb Shuler

  Shattered Lives Series

  My Own Nightmare

  Somewhere I Belong

  Shatter Me Whole

  Sparks Of Deception

  Living In Your Hell

  The Cowboy Way Series

  Wrangled By Love

  A Rescue Series Novella

  A Marshal’s Courage

  Stand Alone Novels

  Primal Darkness

  Anthologies

  Dirty Fairy Tales - What Big Teeth

  The Parlour: All Access - Ultimate Control

  To everyone that has ever had to hide from the life they’ve been dealt.

  For the ones that dared to be brave, dared to escape and start anew. You can always say enough, and get out. The road to good intentions is not always paved with broken glass, sometimes that path is lined with daisies.. It’s up to you whether you pick them or not.

  Be Brave. Fight Hard. Live for yourself.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to my bff’s, my family, my beta team and my readers. This is not something I can do alone. It takes an army to get the words out, sounding great and looking pretty. :)

  To my bff’s: Emily Maynard, Jennifer Amerson, Kelly Graham, Annie Anderson, Mindy Seal… Without you none of this would be possible. When I lose my mojo you are there to kick me in the butt. If I get a wild hair and go WAY over the borders of normal and into the land of crazy, you pull me back. So, thank you! Love you all more than cake!

  To my aunts (Sandy, Nancy, Wendy) and my second Mama, Edith, aka my biggest fans, this one’s for you. Now you can have another book to add to your shelf O’Barb!!. :)

  My beta team: You gals rock my socks off! Kelly Graham, Emily Maynard, Mindy Seal, Jo Dawson, Paula Shuler, and AnnaMarie Gardner… I seriously can’t do any of this without you! Love you girls to pieces!!

  My badass cover designer, Shari J Ryan with Madhat Books, as always, you took the image and made it into a work of art! Thank you!

  If life knocks you down, get up and hit back. Nothing comes easy. It’s a fight to the end.

  It’s up to you to be the last one standing.

  Prologue

  Twenty-seven years ago a life formed, grew and was born into a family where she was supposed to be loved, have a happy life and grow into an adult her parents could be proud of. That life started out well… but things changed, and changed for the worse.

  There aren’t many good things that I can remember from my childhood before I came to live with my Papa. The things I do remember, I wish I could bleach from my memory and never have to think of them again. See, the memories I have of my father are full of pain and heartache. My mother wasn't much better.

  I grew up in a house that was run by a man who would rather have a bottle at his lips than food on his table. My mother tried in the beginning, from what I can actually remember. I ate a lot of cheese sandwiches that were mostly just a piece of bread, sometimes it was even moldy but it's all I had. I ate even more jelly sandwiches. Grape jelly, always grape jelly. Needless to say, as an adult I can only tolerate cheese in small portions and as for grape jelly… no, I can't even stomach that now.

  It was a luxury back then to get a bowl of cereal for breakfast, and to have milk to drink or even a hot meal that did not consist of my mother opening a can of.. something and dumping it into a bowl. Half the time I had to pinch my nose and just eat whatever it was. Most of it tasted gross. If I ever said that though, I got swatted, called ungrateful and sent to my room with no food. This is why I wish it could all be washed from my brain. I have serious issues with canned foods, even today.

  The road of life is paved with good intentions and all but, I'm more of the mind to work my ass off and get what I want. I never wanted to be a burden to anyone, nor do I want to be dependent on anyone else. This is a battle I have been fighting since I was brought to live with my Papa. He wanted to give me the world, and God love him for it, but I couldn’t allow that then, and I don't accept it now. It wasn’t in me to break that cycle. If I have anything, it’s because I’ve busted my ass to make it happen.

  Life has a way of pushing me in one direction when I want to go another. Dating Charlie McKenna for the last nine or so months has helped me become a little less OCD about some things, but it also scares the crap out of me. My biggest fears revolve around dating a loving, caring man. I mean, what if he finds out about my past and literally drops me like a half cooked tater? I don't feel like that would ever actually happen, not with everything I've seen of the man, but the thought is there nonetheless.

  Charlie and the others, his friends who have slowly become my friends, and his family only know me as I am today. The emergency room doctor, the OBGYN, the smiling face who can stay calm in a crisis. That's not the real me, not really. They don't know the neurotic mess I really am.

  Though, I'm not managing to hold myself together too well lately. When I moved back to Texas I wondered if I would have this issue. I would have nightmares in Colorado after a bad day, but not like it's been since I've been back here. Back home. Back to the place where it all started.

  At first, I wasn't sure if I could handle it, but then life changed courses again and I met some people that truly needed my help. I enjoyed my life in the emergency room, and especially loved my job as an OBGYN. Nothing beats helping to bring a p
recious child into the world. That's how I met the people around me now.

  I first met Kristol a little over a year ago when she wound up in my operating room. She'd been hurt, and I knew what I was seeing was more than something she could have done to herself. That night wasn't the first, but one of many times that I received a warning from the hospital about my boundaries when it came to a patient. We’d all slowly learned the truth of her situation, but that wasn't until I'd helped her and her kids after their sperm donor beat her son’s back raw in spots.

  It was then I started to revert back to the “crazy bubble”. The past taunted me nightly. I would wake with my breath heaving, covered in sweat and tears filling my eyes. My nightmares haunted me. Even now, helping out between Papa’s office and Dani Lynn’s crisis center, my world has turned upside down as the life I want to forget keeps jumping out at me.

  It's hard to keep it together when all I want to do is run away and hide. Or attack some dumbass man for slapping his girlfriend, wife or child around. Don't get me wrong, there are a few women around here that need a good ass whoopin’ too, for the same shit.

  Life is never easy, I know that, but right now it's beginning to be too much. My nightmares are back in full force and…I'm seeing my father in places that he shouldn’t be. I'm afraid that I’m slowly losing my ever loving mind.

  If things end up how I suspect they will… I'm about to be up shit creek without either a paddle, or the will to keep fighting to the top.

  I don't want to give up. I want to fight, but I'm not sure I have it in me to do it… I just don't.

  1

  Trying to Forget

  Shelby

  My heart thunders in my chest and with trembling hands I pull my earbuds from my ear and stare down the street. I'd stopped to take a breath before turning around and running back up the street when a shadow caught my attention. I've blinked a few times and the man is still there. Who, besides me, would be out this early on a Sunday morning besides joggers? The only jogger around here seems to be me right now.

  Seriously, I'm losing my mind. The stress of working in so many places is causing me to hallucinate… possibly. That, or the sleep deprivation has finally caught up to me.

  I cursed at my own stupidity, pop my ear buds back in and start my jog again. When I got around to the edge of town, I stopped and stretched. My legs feel like I have on lead weights or something. They're killing me. I guess I really can’t outrun my demons, though I'd tried to do just that this morning. There was no escape, not when they haunted me all day long, and now all night as well.

  I woke again this morning at almost five a.m. to my own screams. I had lain there, curled up in a ball, trying to dislodge the images that seemed to be on repeat in my head. My tears finally dried themselves, but the panic and nausea hadn't gone away so fast. That seemed to take forever. My only saving grace seemed to be that I hadn't spent the night at Charlie’s last night. In retrospect, perhaps I should have. My nightmares didn't haunt me when he held me at night. Papa had come in this morning and sat with me until I was calm. Bless him, he never asked me about my nightmares, he'd just come in, pull me against his chest and wrap me in his strong arms like he did when I first came here to stay.

  Once I assured him I was fine I got up and went out for a jog. But the nightmare was still there. It was the same as all the others lately. A frightened girl hiding from her daddy and his belt. Hiding from the impending pain and blood I knew was coming.

  I had to hurry. If Daddy found me in here he'd hit me like he did Mommy. Then she'd wait until he was out of earshot and beat me again for getting her in trouble. She always did that. She'd say ugly things to me like Daddy did. I was worthless to them both. Good for nothing.

  I was on a mission to get breakfast and run back to hide in my room, where it was safe. If they didn't see me, they wouldn't hit me. I'd just put the milk back on the table after pouring some of it into my bowl. My box of toasty o’s was still on the table and open. I had to get them put away and make it look like I wasn't in here. But I wasn't fast enough.

  “What are you doing, girl?” Daddy roared as he came into the room. I jumped sky high in fear.

  I didn't mean to drop the cereal bowl I had just picked up from the table, but he startled me. His gruff growl of a command to clean it up made my tears start and that just made him madder.

  “Pick that shit up! Jesus, you're fucking useless, just like your mother!” he said, dumping the rest of my cereal on the floor. I cried harder as each of the round o’s bounced on the floor.

  “Pick up each one and put them back in the fucking box or I'll make you eat them off the fucking floor!” He screamed at me as his hand came down across my back. I shrieked in pain and he did it again.

  “Shut the fuck up!” His voice rang out as he hit me again. I managed to get up on my hands and knees. I used that leverage to crawl under the table. He reached for me and I kicked out, crawling to get away from him. He reached for me again, but I was faster. His fingers grazed my foot, but I was free. He stumbled into the table, cursing and staggering after me. He grabbed his belt from the table.

  “No! Daddy! I didn't mean to,” I cried out. I got up and ran from the room.

  “I'm going to make you pay for that, you little bitch!”

  I pulled the cabinet door in the small bathroom open and tucked myself inside, making sure the door closed before I curl up into a ball. If I hide my face he won't hear me crying, that's what gave me away last time. I squeeze my eyes shut and listen for his boots on the floor. They thumped in concert with my pounding heart.

  Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

  The moment the cabinet door flies open I shriek in fright. His meaty hand grabs my arm and yanks. Pain shoots through my arm and I scream louder, trying to get away from him.

  “Don't! Daddy...st-stop!” I beg and cry as he swings his hand. The belt slices into me with each hit. My body is so racked with pain that I stop fighting. I laid there on the bathroom floor and just cried. He hits me until he stumbles over his own feet and falls into the bathtub. I look back and see a red smear on the bathroom wall. He's hurt himself, so I might have a chance to get away this time. I pull myself up as best as I can and crawl away. Hopefully he won't get up and come after me again.

  I remember what my Papa said the last time I visited him. He had noticed that I had a bruise on the back of my leg. I told him I didn't know where it came from, but that was a lie. Daddy had kicked me one night because I walked in front of the TV and he couldn't see the football game. His friends had just laughed before Mommy grabbed me up and dragged me to my room.

  I knew my Papa had meant what he’d said that day.

  “You can always tell me anything, sweet pea. Papa will always be here for you. No matter what, okay?”

  I had agreed but said nothing more when Mommy said it was time to leave Papa’s.

  I pushed Mommy and Daddy's bedroom door open and crawled to the night table. Papa’s number is taped to the bottom of it since Daddy can't ever remember it. I flip the bottom over and carefully press each button, waiting for my Papa to answer me.

  “Grant Family Practice. How may I help you?” His voice made my eyes fly open. I hadn't meant to close them. I was just so tired. I could hear Daddy banging around, trying to get his drunken self out of the tub. I whisper as my tears started to fall down my already wet cheeks.

  “Pa-Papa….”

  He's quiet for a moment before he speaks again. “Shelby? Is that you, sweet pea?”

  “Papa… can-can you come-come and g-get me?”

  “Shelby, sweet pea? What is it? Are you okay?” He asks. I shake my head. “Shelby, sweet pea…” I couldn't answer him, I had to be quiet now. I shifted under the bed and wiggled back to the corner where Daddy couldn't see me.

  “Sweet pea, I need you to talk to me.”

  “Daddy… he’s…. Papa, come now. Please,” I begged, my body shaking with strangled sobs.

  There was a noise from the hallw
ay and then I saw Daddy's boots. He stomped his way into the room.

  “Get out here, you little shit!”

  I gasped when the phone was pulled from my hands. The cord yanked from the wall. I screamed, and his belt whipped out under the bed, hitting me across the face. I tucked myself into a tighter ball and wailed.

  “St-st-stop!” I begged again.

  I could hear Daddy screaming and cursing at me as he flung things around the room. Something big smashed against the wall and I ducked my head further into myself out of habit. There was a sudden breeze and light surrounding me where there had been darkness. I peeked up to see Daddy standing there. He'd flipped over the mattress from his bed and tossed the bottom piece off as well. I was exposed. There for him to beat on more.

  I screamed as his arm raised and tucked myself back into a ball. The sharp sting of the belt across my skin made me cry more. He snarled as he jerked me up off the floor, shaking me by my already throbbing arm.

  “You worthless little shit! Look what you did!”

  “STOP! Daddy, no!” I screamed and he dropped me unceremoniously onto the floor.

  I saw his boot raise but there was a loud crashing from the front of the house. Daddy cursed and was about to go see what it was when Papa and two other men rushed into the room.