CONTENTS
Title Page
Blank Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
I
II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
VIII
IX
X
XI
XII
XIII
XIV
XV
XVI
XVII
XVIII
XIX
XX
XXI
XXII
XXIII
XXIV
XXV
XXVI
XXVII
XXVIII
XXIX
XXX
XXXI
XXXII
XXXII
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
In My Head
Copyright © 2015 Alyne Roberts
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law..
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, 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, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if we use one of these terms.
Cover by: R.B.A. Designs
Editing: Beyond The Cover Editing
“According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.”
― Plato, The Symposium
PROLOGUE
Stella
"Have you ever shot anyone, Daddy?" I asked.
I was sitting on the kitchen counter with my legs dangling down, kicking the cabinets. Mommy hated it when he let me do this. My dad stopped spreading the peanut butter and looked back at me.
"Why would you ask me that?" he asked, his eyes laced with concern.
I shrugged. "Kelly said that cops have guns and shoot people."
My dad wiped his hands off on a towel and came over to me. He hefted himself up onto the counter with me and I stared at him with wide eyes. Mom was gonna be so mad. He could probably change her mind though. Daddy was good at that.
"Well, Kelly is right that cops have guns," he said. "But I don't go running around just shooting people. I only shoot when I have to."
"Why would you have to?" Daddy always said no matter what, you never hurt someone else.
"There are bad guys out there," he explained calmly. "It's my job to protect everyone from the bad guys. Cops sometimes have to shoot them to do that."
"Kelly said guns are bad. She's in second grade so she's pretty smart."
"Guns are bad if they are in a bad person's hands. Sometimes, good people have to do bad things to save others from bad things. I'm a good guy, but I would do anything to keep you safe. Even if that meant hurting someone who deserved it."
I wrinkled my nose and looked up at my dad's face. My tummy hurt when I thought about bad guys trying to hurt him.
"Why do you have to do it?" I asked. My words were getting caught in my throat.
"Because, baby," my dad said as he put an arm around me. "Everyone has a role and a job in this world. Mine is to keep people safe. I feel good because I can save people's lives."
"Like a hero?"
He laughed. "Yes. Kinda like that."
"What's mom's job?" I asked. What does she do if dad is so important?
"She is a mother. A wife. She is my support and brought me two beautiful children. It's because of those children that I fight bad guys."
I laughed when he pulled me closer to his chest. "But dad, that's not right."
"What's not?"
"She only gave you one beautiful kid. Ace is pretty ugly," I managed to say through a giggle.
"I heard that, butthead," my brother said as he came into the kitchen.
He tossed his baseball mitt on the table and picked up my sandwich. Before I could stop him, he took a massive bite out of it.
"Hey!" I yelled. "That was mine."
"You snooze, you lose," he said with a full mouth.
I was ready to launch at him and take my sandwich back when Mom came through the door.
"Really? On the counter?" she asked with a stern look.
Dad and I hopped off and gave her our best smiles. They usually worked. Dad's was the best. She turned to look at us and, as I knew she would, she smiled back. Just like that, we are out of trouble. Daddy shot me a wink before I ran off to get my sandwich back from Ace.
"All gone," he said, holding up his empty hands as proof. He stuck his tongue out at me.
"Gross." It was covered in bread and peanut butter.
I looked back at Mom and Dad but they were holding each other and paying us no attention. I remembered that Daddy said she was his support. Maybe he needed support right now. My eyes welled up because I was still hungry and no one could make me another peanut butter sandwich.
I shoved my older brother and stormed to my room, slamming the door behind me. I ran to my bed and grabbed Unicorn and held him close. Hugging always made Mom and Dad feel better, but it wasn't working for me. I tossed the stupid stuffed animal across the room just as Ace poked his head in my door.
"No boys allowed!" I yelled at him. I was so mad at him that I started to cry again.
"Here," he said, handing me a plate.
I took it from him and stared down at the sandwich. There was peanut butter oozing out of the sides. The crust was torn off but not like Daddy did it. It was ugly, but I was hungry, so I took a bite anyway. My lips and teeth stuck together from all the peanut butter and I swore I tasted a piece of crust. I looked up at Ace and smiled wide.
"Fank you," I mumbled, trying to pry my mouth open. "Iff better ‘n Dad's!"
"Really?" he asked, his eyes wide in surprise.
"Yeah," I said, spitting a little. "More peanuh-budder."
Ace nodded and walked out of my room. His head was held high and he looked so proud. I chowed down on my ugly, messy sandwich and imagined my brother would be just like my dad one day. Like Daddy, Ace would make it his job to protect people from the bad guys. He would be a hero. Mommy and I would always be safe.