Lost (Captive Heart #1) by Carrie Aarons Read Free Book Online Page A

the structure and throw one of the thin blankets on top.
    “Tuck … can you move over here?” I try to approach him gently, laying my hand on his shoulder.
    “Fuck!” He flinches away from my hand like I’ve burned him.
    “Sorry! Can you crawl over there?” I point to my makeshift bed.
    He lurches his body forward, doing what looks like a sort of army crawl. He looks handicapped, uncoordinated and just … sick.
    An image of a nineteen-year-old Tucker on my TV screen flashes through my brain. The way his big, muscular body would fly across the University of Connecticut football field. How he would look graceful but dynamic as he leapt into the air to retrieve the ball. I’d watched every one of his college games on TV … well, until …
    Tucker slams his body down with another cry of agony, and I snap out of memory lane. I throw the other thin blanket on top of him and then the sleeping bag follows. He’s a big, shivering pile of blankets in the middle of the dingy cabin.
    “How is that?” I kneel next to him, trying to get him to look me in the eye.
    “I’m cold. But on fire.” Tucker reaches for my hand. “Please …”
    I don’t know what more he wants me to do. I have no idea how long it will take him to detox, but I pray to God that it’s swift.
    The only other option is to stay with him, to lie under those ratty blankets and give him my body heat.
    I falter. Laying this close to him, even with the state he’s in, is bound to lead nowhere good for me.
    Tucker gives another twitch and makes that dying animal sound again.
    There isn’t a choice. He’s in pain, and for some reason I have a conscience. So here we go.
    I slip under and pull him as close as I can to my body. He crosses his arms over his chest and tucks his head, curling himself into the nook between my chin and chest. I wrap my short legs in his long ones, willing the warmth from my skin to seep into his.
    Tucker shakes and weeps uncontrollably until the first lights of the sun stream into the cabin. And then finally, finally , he drifts off. I watch him, at peace at last, until I can’t hold my eyes open anymore and give myself over to blissful sleep.

11
Charlotte
    Ten Years Ago
    T here is only ever one thing I wish for on my birthday.
    For Tucker Lynch to like me back.
    Another year, another party with just me, my parents and my Nana. No one from school came, not even the two girls from my English class that I casually mentioned it to.
    I didn’t expect them to come. It’s not going to be a long party anyway. A short dinner and a cake after, of which I’m only allowed to have a half-slice (mother’s orders), and then off to dance lessons.
    “Do you need to go get your leotard on?”
    I haven’t even made it to the frosting yet and already my mother is hassling me. Happy sixteenth birthday, Charlotte.
    “Does she really need to go today, Rachel?” Wow. Dad standing up for me. That was a rare occurrence.
    “John, will you just be quiet! You don’t parent her any other time, so why would you speak up now? I do everything, remember?”
    Jeez, now I realize why he didn’t speak up more. I wouldn’t want to poke the fire-breathing dragon either. Not that it mattered. She yelled at me whether I poked her or not.
    “It’s fine, Dad, I’ll go. It was nice to see you, Nana.” I kissed my grandmother’s cheek before heading upstairs.
    I kind of wanted to go to ballet tonight. Bleeding feet were better than sitting in your room, depressed and listening to Boyz II Men on an endless loop.
    As soon as I pushed open the door, the endless stacks of college brochures spilled off my desk. Sighing, I bent to pick them up.
    What high school sophomore had over fifty college pamphlets that she was forced to study? Oh, right. Me. When your mother was insane and incessant, you pretty much followed her letter of the law.
    And even when she wasn’t, I put so much pressure on myself out of fear of her disappointment that I thought my back would