Beautiful Storm
Copyright © 2015 Megan Isaacs
Cover Design: Okay Creations, www.okaycreations.com
Photography: Perrywinkle Photography, www.perrywinklephotography.com
Editing: Eagle Eye Reads, www.eagleeyereads.weebly.com
Proof Reading: Vivid Words Editing, www.vividwordsediting.com
Formatting: Champagne Formats, www.champagneformats.com
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of short quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorised, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
meganisaacsauthor@gmail.com | www.meganisaacsauthor.com
This book is not intended for readers under the age of eighteen. Due to sexual content, possible triggers, and explicit language, reader discretion is advised.
Table of Contents
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT
DEDICATION
three years earlier
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
present day
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
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
MAC LIES ON our bed. His gaze follows my every move as I put on my makeup. I’ve had to use several layers of foundation and powder, along with a little blush, to hide the yellowing bruise on my right cheek, so it’s taking a little longer than usual. It’s a different look for me, but one I’m getting used to. Before I was just a swipe-the-mascara-and-go type of girl. Luckily lips heal fast, and with some natural lipstick, I can barely see anything amiss.
I try hard to ignore the fact he’s here. He’s been by my side as much as possible over the last few days, it’s an annoying pattern he’s beginning to follow. This house is large, but no matter what room I’m in, he’s right behind me. He cries, tells me how sorry he is, and follows me around. Overpriced gifts and obscene-sized bouquets of flowers are sent to me, because throwing money around obviously makes everything better. I’m beyond sick and tired of his pathetic routine. It’s getting impossible to forgive him, and it’s slowly killed my love for him.
I’m no longer in gut-twisting, butterfly-inducing, heart-pounding love with him anymore. Sometimes I still get all these feelings, but with different connotations now. Not one of them is love. And in a strange way, that’s more painful than his fists.
“Where are you going, Liz?” He swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands up.
My stomach tightens at his enquiry. “I have that interview I told you about earlier this week. I’m meeting up with a guy named Noah Hamilton. He runs Ignition; it’s a mod shop for American muscle cars,” I reply, my tone flat.
In the mirror, I watch him walk towards me. “So what’s the interview for?”
Irritation at his question has me biting back my less than polite response. I take a deep breath and turn to face him. “He’s good, one of the best in his line of business. The magazine wants an article on him for the next edition. Christ, Mac. You know what I do for a living.”
“You like those muscle cars, don’t you? Ask him if he sells them. If you see one you like, just buy it. You know I won’t mind.”
There he goes again with the gifts. I think my brain just flew out the window, because the words spill from my mouth before I can stop them. “You do realise buying me ridiculous presents and skulking around at my side for days isn’t going to fix the problems between us, don’t you?”