Sanctuary (RiffRaff Records Book 5)

  YOUR LOVE

  Evie James loves to read, gets great grades, and enjoys being a good daughter. But after two days at SMU, she learns the entire university is disgusted that she's not a rock princess. Never one to disappoint, and desperate to fit in, she reinvents herself and becomes the darling of her sorority, and the girl everyone wants to be. Except Evie needs a little help to keep up appearances. What started as a boost has turned into an out-of-control dependency. Does she care? Nah. Not even when the tattooed god of her dreams, Nick Barrens calls her on it.

  IS INKED ON MY SOUL

  Two years ago Nick Barrens fell hard for sweet, shy, gorgeous Evie James. When she reappears in his life, she's not the same Evie. This girl is in trouble, and Nick can't help but try to save her. Problem is, Evie doesn't want to be saved, or so she says. But Nick knows the girl he fell for is in there, and decides he'll move heaven and earth to support her as she finds her way back to normal, and back to him. ’Cause the one thing Nick won't do is lose Evie ever again.

  ALSO BY L.P. MAXA

  RiffRaff Records

  Royalty

  Legacy

  Infamy

  Loyalty

  The Devil’s Share

  Play Nice

  Play Dirty

  Play Fair

  Play Softly

  Play Hard

  Play For Keeps

  St. Leasing

  Mouth Watering

  Breath Taking

  Jaw Dropping

  Other Novels

  Happy Place

  SANCTUARY

  RiffRaff Records – Book Five

  L.P. Maxa

  www.BOROUGHSPUBLISHINGGROUP.com

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Boroughs Publishing Group does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites, blogs or critiques or their content.

  SANCTUARY

  Copyright © 2018 L.P. Maxa

  All rights reserved. Unless specifically noted, no part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Boroughs Publishing Group. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or by any other means without the permission of Boroughs Publishing Group is illegal and punishable by law. Participation in the piracy of copyrighted materials violates the author’s rights.

  ISBN 978-1-948029-19-3

  E-book formatting by Maureen Cutajar

  www.gopublished.com

  To all the girls who didn’t get rescued

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Evie’s book wasn’t supposed to happen yet. I had another book that was scheduled for release. But her story kept pounding in my brain, demanding to be told. For more than a few weeks, I became completely lost in my computer. I’d emerge hours after locking myself away to write, my brain foggy. I always thank my husband and my daughter first, and that’s because they deserve so much more than these simple thank yous. They are understanding and loving. They don’t make me feel guilty, and I couldn’t do what I do without their support. It would be impossible. Amy S., thank you for reading tiny snippets of this book over and over again, and for helping me get their story to where it needed to be. I don’t know what I would do without your heart. You care about all these guys as much as I do, and I love how hard you fight for them. Amy H. you are one of the toughest chicks I’ve ever known, and you’re in my thoughts daily. Michelle, thank you for supporting my crazy and helping me make head and tails of my life. Evie’s story hits on a few hard subjects, some of which I’ve pulled from my own life and my own experiences. This was the book I’ve always needed to write.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  SANCTUARY

  “The broken will always be able to love harder than most.

  Once you have been in the dark, you learn to appreciate everything that shines.”

  ~Zachary K. Douglas

  Chapter One

  Evie

  Freshman Year

  Campus was huge. That was all I kept thinking as I walked around, people constantly bumping into me. Classes started in two days and already coeds were handing out flyers for groups we should all be a part of. Fraternities and sororities were dressed to impress, smiling and shaking hands like politicians in the making. Three different sets of girls had already approached me. They’d told me I was pretty. Apparently that was really the only prerequisite to “rush” a sorority at SMU.

  I’d never thought about joining any kind of Greek life before, but even I had to admit, those chicks made it sound appealing—a readymade group of friends, people who had to hang out with you no matter what. It was kind of like life on the compound, right? Growing up surrounded by all my cousins, I’d always had someone to talk to.

  “Hi, I’m Hannah, and I’m the vice president at Kappa Delta, what’s your name?”

  “Evie.” I studied her bright smile, trying my best to mirror it back to her. It’s not that I wasn’t a happy person; I was. But all the chaos surrounding me was hard to handle. I grew up in a small town. I went to a tiny school. The hustle and bustle of Dallas was a lot to take in.

  “Great.” She handed me yet another flyer. At this point I could wallpaper my dorm room with neon-colored printouts. “Have you thought about rushing this fall? We are having a mixer tomorrow night and we’d love a chance to get to know you and talk a little more about what we’re all about.” Her smile got even wider. A feat I didn’t think possible until I saw it happen. “Which is sisterhood, of course.” She kind of laughed at the end of her sentence, like them being about anything else would be ludicrous.

  I had a sister, a real one. Plus I had Landry, Halen, Avory and Marley. I wondered if this chick would think I was rude if I told her five was my quota and I’d already met it. “Maybe I’ll stop by.”

  “How about I meet you at your dorm room? I can walk you to our house—that way you don’t get lost.” Hannah was still smiling like a damn Barbie, a toy none of us Devil’s Spawn girls
had ever really enjoyed playing with.

  “Uh. Okay, I guess so.” I wasn’t sure what made me say yes. Maybe it was that having friends seemed like an important part of college life. Maybe it was because I wasn’t sure what would happen to Hannah’s face if I turned her down. Maybe I was simply bad at being vocal about what I actually wanted. I’ll give you a hint: it was most likely the third option.

  “Great.” She whipped out her phone and snapped a picture of me before I could stop her. “What dorm? I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

  “Whitmore.” As a rule, our parents didn’t like strangers taking pictures of us. That’s normal paranoia when your dad is a rock star and your family runs one of the biggest record labels in the world.

  “See you tomorrow at six sharp.” She quickly whirled around to her next victim, her movements reminding me of a robot. Or one of those Stepford Wives; they’d remade that movie like three times, there had to be a reason.

  What would happen if I stood her up? She had my name, my picture and the name of my dorm. Would she spread gossip that I was a bitch? Or would she simply move on and pick up the next girl? As I made the trek back to my room, I kept my head down. I didn’t want to talk to any more blonde pageant queens. I wanted to lay on my bed, read a book and decompress. And to be completely honest, I wanted to cry a bit. I missed my family, and I missed my home.

  I didn’t have all that much in common with my cousins, personality-wise. But living apart from them made me feel empty, like a piece of me was missing. The rest of the Devil’s Spawn were loud, almost crazy. They liked to have a good time; they liked to live like tomorrow didn’t matter. I observed from a distance as they experienced things like lust and recklessness. I never felt jealous, I never felt the itch to join them. I was more than content to applaud them from the sidelines.

  “Oh, you’re back.”

  My suitemate Samantha didn’t like me. I wasn’t really sure what I could have done in the past twenty-four hours to irritate her, but every time she looked in my direction she wrinkled her nose. I sent her a small, quick smile and then put my head back down on the way to my room. I thought the best course of action was to simply stay away from her until I could figure out her disdain. Or possibly grow a backbone and tell her to fuck the hell off.

  “Yeah, she’s here.” I paused right inside my door when I heard Samantha lower her voice, only slightly. “When I found out I was suitemates with Evie James I thought I hit the damn jackpot.” She snorted. “But she’s nothing like I thought she’d be.” There was another pause while I fought back unwanted tears. “She’s quiet and boring, and I’d bet money that she’s a virgin too. She dresses like a fucking elementary school teacher.”

  I looked at my black cropped pants and mustard blouse, my tears spilling over even though I mentally begged them not to. I shut my door quietly and curled up on my bed. I was homesick, my suitemate hated me, and apparently I was a boring virgin who couldn’t dress herself. I wanted to get in my car and drive back to the compound. I wanted a hug from my mom. Everything about the last day had overwhelmed me beyond belief. I suddenly felt like I was drowning on dry land—in my own tears, no less.

  I thought college would be different from high school. I thought here I’d get to be my own person, that people would stop comparing me to my family…and finding me lacking. No one was outwardly mean to me back home. They knew better. Any one of my cousins would have gone to bat for me, no hesitation. But I could always hear people whispering behind my back. I didn’t measure up. I wasn’t a Devil’s Spawn in their eyes. I was a nobody. I was a girl born into a family she couldn’t keep up with.

  I rolled onto my back, staring at my plain white ceiling. Dallas was a mere three hours north of my hometown. I could go see my cousins. I could let them surround me, let them fill me up with their love. They didn’t care that I liked to stay home, and they didn’t care that I didn’t drink or date. Was the compound the only place I’d ever feel like I belonged?

  No.

  I refused to run crying to my parents when I’d only been here less than two days. That would make me sad. And pathetic. And contrary to what my bitch of a suitemate thought, I was neither of those things. I sat up, swinging my black-ballet-flat-clad feet over the side. I simply needed to get out of here for a little while. Maybe I’d go off campus, grab a coffee, see what else this big city had to offer.

  Chapter Two

  Evie

  Starbucks. The one place you could count on finding almost anywhere. I grew up in a small town right outside of Austin, and even we had one. The line was long, but it was moving quickly. I studied my surroundings, breathing in the familiar scent of sweet and bitter. Everyone in here looked younger, around my age. Which made sense; this was the closest coffee place to campus.

  “Did you hear Evie James is going here?”

  My face heated when I heard my name. I immediately ducked my head, not wanting to draw attention to myself. Not wanting anyone to notice that I was here, that I was bound to be blushing.

  “Yeah, my little sister is friends with her suitemate.”

  Well, isn’t this such a small, miserable world? I glanced to the side, wondering if I could make it back out the door without them seeing me. Did they even know what I looked like? It’s not as if there were pictures of me all over the Internet or anything; my parents never allowed that to happen.

  “I saw her on campus today. I invited her to our mixer tomorrow night.”

  Hannah? I peeked up through my dark hair. Yep. The trophy wife in training was sitting about three feet away from me. Was I being punished? Did the universe hate me? Did God? God couldn’t possibly hate me. I’d never sinned in my life.

  “Well, my sister’s friend said that she’s ridiculously boring.” The second girl paused. “Like doesn’t party, doesn’t joke, doesn’t drink. We’re talking virginal saint in ballet flats.”

  I glanced down at my feet. These shoes cost two hundred dollars—it’s not like they weren’t fashionable. Geeze. What did they expect? Me to walk in wearing thigh-high boots and a tiny leather dress? I sighed and moved up another place in line.

  “Like I give a shit.” Hannah let out this gross, mocking laugh. “She’s Evie James. Her dad is in the Devil’s Share. Her family owns and operates RiffRaff Records.” I stole another glimpse their way. “Can you imagine the perks of having her rush Kappa Delta? She can cower in the corner for the next two years for all I care. In fact, that would be even better for me. I need her name, and if she doesn’t have a rock and roll attitude to go with it? That just means more attention on the rest of us.”

  So not only was Hannah a blonde Barbie clone of a person, she was a raging bitch too. She wanted to use me; she planned to use me. How did she know what I looked like? Did she seek me out today on campus? I moved up another place, mumbling my order on autopilot. Tall blonde vanilla latte. When the barista asked me my name I froze. I didn’t want them to call out Evie and alert Hannah and her shitty friend that I’d heard everything they said. “Emmie.”

  There. That would work. I walked to the other end of the counter, turning my back to them while I fought another round of tears and waited for my order. I guess that meant I could skip the damn mixer tomorrow. I didn’t want to be around people that wanted to use me. If I was Landry, I would march up to those girls and tell them where they could shove their perks. If I was Halen, I’d roll my eyes and send them a sweet smile and wave as I walked past their table.

  But I was Evie, and I hated confrontation. So I’d let them get away with talking about me like that. I’d shy away and slink back to my room, where I’d probably hide until classes started. I’d ask for a room transfer, I’d get a single and live alone.

  I should go ahead and start collecting cats now.

  ***

  I decided against going back to my dorm, too afraid that I’d have another run-in with Samantha. I couldn’t take that, not right now when my sense of self was already starting to fray. Instead, I was strollin
g along Greenville Avenue with my latte in hand. I thought I looked like I belonged; at least I didn’t think I looked out of place. I studied everyone I passed, gauging their clothes against mine. Granted, I didn’t dress like rock royalty, but I also didn’t look odd in this uppity city. The twinge of homesickness I felt in my gut hadn’t lessened. If anything, it was more of a gnawing ache now. People thought I was a boring virgin.

  How was that even a snap judgment? Like how could you tell that after only knowing someone for twenty-four hours? The kids back in high school, they’d known me since kindergarten. Their assessments made sense, and I honestly didn’t fault them for it. But these bitches? Wow. They were really mean.

  My drink was almost gone, and there was a trashcan coming up on my right. I stopped, enjoying my last few sips. I can’t tell you what made me look up, but the second I did, I couldn’t help but grin.

  The sign hanging above my head read “Revival Ink” in typewriter print. I didn’t realize that they had a location here in Dallas. Revival Ink was where my dad and all my uncles got their work done in Austin. My smile grew as I pictured my dad’s rib tattoo My girls, My whole world. Although I was pretty sure he got that one in New Orleans right before I was born.

  Maybe this outing was exactly what I needed. To see the truth about the girls that supposedly wanted to be my friends, and get rid of the homesickness that was about to consume me and send me running back to Austin.

  I took another sip of my drink, a rebellious little thought forming in my otherwise obedient head. Tattoos weren’t boring, not at all. And for some reason I felt drawn to the familiarity of the parlor. The signage reminded me of home, and the thought of ink on my skin reminded me of my family. I couldn’t really do anything about the way I dressed—not today anyway, all the stores were closing. And I was a virgin; Samantha had hit the nail on the head with that one. But a tattoo? I could do a tattoo, and better yet, I wanted to.