A. Walters - Lead Me Not

It had ripped me in half to see an expression on his face I never thought I’d see.

Disappointment.

After Landon had left, I felt depressed. I was as low as I thought I could get.

I was wrong.

Because I had decided to call Aubrey.

I had been tormented with wondering why she hadn’t come to the hospital to see me. I had no idea she had been the one who had found me at the club and essentially saved my life.

And now she was gone.

My chest ached with a pain I was all too familiar with.

Grief.

The night after talking to Aubrey I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned and thought about the ways I could have done things differently. What I could have said to make her stay.

And in the early hours of the morning, I was hit with a clarity that comes only when you’ve lost everything.

So after forcing myself out of bed, I got dressed in the same clothes I had been admitted in. They hung loosely on my hips. I had lost weight in the week I had been in the hospital. Looking in the mirror at my hollow cheeks and sallow skin, I barely recognized the man looking back at me.

I hated him.

“I have your release paperwork here. You just need to read over everything and sign at the bottom,” the doctor said, coming into my room a short time later.

He held out the papers, waiting for me to take them.

This was the moment when I could change everything.

“Actually, I’d like to hear more about rehab.”

Sometimes the acknowledgments are the hardest part to write. But this time, they’re the easiest . . .

This book is for the people who have supported me, no matter what. This is for my mother, who is no longer with me, but whose influence is still felt in every part of my life. She always told me to reach for the stars and to never give up until I could touch them. I didn’t give up, Mom. And I never will . . .

For my dad and grandparents, who are my biggest fans. I love you all so very much, and I hope I always make you proud.

For Ian. You helped me brainstorm this incredible idea for a story. Something about clubbing and street art and addiction (and insisting I watch documentaries on Banksy) . . . and somewhere in our crazy stream-of-consciousness ramblings, Lead Me Not was created. You listened to me as I pieced it together, and you didn’t grumble (too much) when I hid away in my writing cave to bleed this story out. Thank you for your endless patience. I said it in my first book and I say it again now . . . they’re all for you . . .

For my daughter, who is old enough to be excited when Mommy is writing a new book, though she doesn’t understand why she can’t read it (when you’re older, sweetheart). Thank you for being sparkly and pink and fabulous!

For my awesome agent, Michelle, who has listened to me freak out, explode, and lose it on numerous occasions. Thank you for always talking me off the ledge. You have loved Maxx and Aubrey from the start, and I’m so thankful for your endless cheerleading!

Thanks to Alex Lewis, my amazing editor at Gallery, who helped me mold this book into what it is. You had faith in this crazy, dark story, and I’m so thankful you took a chance on me. And thank you to the entire team at Gallery for believing in Maxx and Aubrey!

A super, humongous thank-you to Kristy Garbutt, my amazing PA and friend. Our chats and your encouragement have helped me in ways you don’t even know. I’m so blessed to have you in my life!!!

Thank you to my lovely Bad Ass CPs: Tonya, Brittainy, Stacey, Amy, Claire, and Kelsie; you guys rock. It’s awesome having six other authors whom I respect and admire so much and who are there to listen to me vent or just to make me laugh. Love you, ladies!

Thank you to all of the bloggers who have pimped my stories, spread the word, and been the hugest supports I could ever have imagined! There are too many of you to name—plus I’m scared to death I’d leave someone out—but to each of you who have shared my covers, talked about me on Facebook or Twitter, encouraged your fans to pick up my books, you all rock!

Thank you to my fantastic street team, Meredith’s Maniacs! I’m so lucky to have you guys. Your endless pimping and enthusiasm for my books is what keeps me going.

And finally, thank you to my readers! Words can’t express how much each and every one of you means to me. Every day I wake up and can’t quite believe that I’m living my dream. And that’s because of you!

aubrey

three months earlier

“miss Duncan, you have been asked here today to discuss the allegations that have been lodged against you in regards to your behavior toward a member of the support group you had been co-facilitating. These allegations describe a personal and inappropriate relationship that is a clear violation of our ethical codes of conduct.”

I looked steadily at the three people who sat at the table in front of me. I picked at the skin around my fingernails and tried not to fidget in my seat.

My day of reckoning was here.

I was nervous. I’d be an idiot if I wasn’t. This was possibly the end of all of my dreams and aspirations. Three years of hard work crumbling around me.

But losing my place in the Longwood University counseling program wasn’t what had kept me awake at night for the past two weeks. That wasn’t the thing that had my insides twisted into knots and had tears drying on my cheeks. Seeing the future I had worked so hard for fading in front of me wasn’t the explanation either. Nor was the breakdown of friendships that I was trying so hard to rectify.

My state of emotional upheaval could be attributed to only one thing, one pivotal moment that had shredded my soul and threatened to unravel me.

It was saying good-bye to Maxx Demelo. Choosing my sanity over his pain. Leaving him when he needed me the most.

My guilt was a wild thing inside me that at times seemed out of control. I hated myself for hanging up the phone after telling him I loved him. For effectively pulling away and out of his life.

Even if it was our dysfunctional love that had almost ruined me.

But I wasn’t down for the count yet. It was time to pull up my big-girl panties and face the consequences of my disastrous choices head on. It was my only option now that I had lost the person I had thrown everything away for.

Dr. Lowell, my academic advisor, sat beside two of her university colleagues. She was looking staunchly down at the paper in her hands. Her mouth was pinched and her brow was furrowed. She was upset and disappointed with me.

And she had every right to be. I had been her most promising student. I had a perfect 4.0 average. I had been on the fast track to a great career as a substance-abuse counselor. I had taken my future seriously.

Until the day Maxx had walked into the support group and blown my life apart.

Now when she looked at me, all she saw was a screw-up. It sucked.

“We have read over your written statement, and it seems you aren’t denying the allegations. Is that correct, Miss Duncan?” Dr. Jamison, the head of the counseling department, asked, pursing his mouth. He looked at me over the tops of his wire-rimmed glasses, condemnation written all over his face. Obviously he had already made up his mind about me. And his conclusion wasn’t favorable.

I sat up straight and squared my shoulders. I took a deep breath and readied myself. Because all I could do was be completely truthful. I was long overdue for a healthy dose of honesty. I had lived with my head in the sand for entirely too long. Denial had gotten me nowhere.

“That’s correct, Dr. Jamison. I admit to engaging in an inappropriate relationship with a member of the substance-abuse support group. As I wrote in my statement, I was aware that my actions were a violation of the code of conduct, and I accept any and all disciplinary action.” I was proud of the fact that my voice never wavered. I didn’t cry. I didn’t whimper and plead. I would take my punishment, whatever it may be.

Dr. Jamison seemed taken aback by my honesty. It was clear he had expected me to deny the charges. Or to play the ignorant-student card: But, sir, I didn’t know sleeping with a client was a bad idea!

I wasn’t an idiot; I had just made some stupid decisions. But I wasn’t going to make ridiculous excuses now. And that was one thing out of this huge, life-sucking mess I had created that I could be proud of.

Dr. Jamison looked at Professor Bradley—a slight woman with obviously dyed brown hair and a nasty habit of mixing plaids with stripes—and said something under his breath. He then turned to Dr. Lowell, who nodded, her hands clenched on the table in front of her. They talked quietly amongst themselves while I fiddled with a piece of string hanging from the hem of my skirt.

I looked at the clock on the wall. It was a little after one. I had been in this chair, sitting in front of my judge and jury, for only half an hour.

But it felt like forever.

I knew that my friends Renee Alston and Brooks Hamlin were waiting for me out in the hallway. Brooks would be pacing the floor while Renee twisted her hands in her lap. I could practically feel their anxiety through the walls.