The Reason I Breathe Read online

  The Reason I Breathe

  (Bite & Release 2)

  By Cory Cyr

  The Reason I Breathe Copyright © 2015 CORY CYR

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Published by: Cory Cyr

  Cover design by: © 2015 Wicked by Design

  Cover Model: Daniel Boos

  Photographer: © Jacky Liebe AKA The JACK photoworld

  Back Cover courtesy of 123RF®

  Edited by: Cassie McCown

  Formatting: Sharon Kay of Amber Leaf Publishing

  Copyright © 2015 by Cory Cyr

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Paperback ISBN: 13-978-1514212646

  This is NOT a Stand-Alone.

  To Fully enjoy this book

  Please read Bite & Release First.

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  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

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  This was the hardest book I will ever write. I never thought I’d do a follow up to Bite & Release and when I chose to, I decided on Shea’s POV. I wanted it different then other Point Of View books. I didn’t want just another regurgitation of the original story so I developed a separate storyline within the POV itself. This is NOT a standalone book. Please read Bite & Release first.

  There are many, who have helped me along the way. Some just listen to me vent; others have answered questions and supported me daily over the last year.

  Kathy Coopmans, Ahren Sanders, Desiree A. Cox, Arie Lane, Nick Salupo, Cambria Hebert and Mary Ting. —all of you inspire me daily!

  Bonded by Books—WOW! Your group is amazing, thank you for all the support. Others that take such good care of me: Yolanda Ann, Ena Burnette, Christine of Books and Beyond (thank you for always saying YES). Christopher John, I gave up coffee and cigarettes years ago but having you in my circle of friends is just as good—our morning chats are fabulous. My FAN GROUP, each one of you motivates me to write the next book. I could never do anything without all of you! There are girls from my old street team in my fan group that SUPPORT and CATTLE PROD me every day: Laura & Brandi.

  Melissa Darling-you saved me-by truly becoming the PA I needed and Heather Hungate-Brown for always being there as my back up PA-I can never thank you enough.

  Robin Harper, what can I say? We appear to be the team that produces HOT ass covers. You are always there for me and you never sugar coat what can be done-no matter how much I beg or whine. Jacky Liebe, you are an amazing photographer. My editor Cassie, she is one of the nicest people I have ever known even when she wants to say this: “WTF? Are you crazy? No, No, NO, wrong.” There is always a smiley face attached to the RED LINE. Sharon-who does such fantastic formatting for me.

  Of course my BFF’s: Lori, Mike (Ben), Katrina, Dee Dee, Dianne, Jo and Jan

  And to Lynne White because you are such a devoted Shea Michaels fan, I had to put you in the book. I hope you approve.

  I wrote The Reason I Breathe for all of you Shea fans because you still—

  Believe you can love a prince even if he’s flawed~

  ~Prologue~

  I waited my entire life for one singular moment. The minute I could make Ryan Chase my wife. We’d been married now for three years and had a beautiful daughter, Holly. In four months, we would add a son. She’d been my one constant dream since she moved away when I was eight. Ryan had been my babysitter since I was five. By age eight, I was convinced I loved her and she was my destiny. I had no idea what destiny actually was or meant. Still, when I found out she planned to leave, I vowed to her dad I would marry her when I grew up. I had no doubt he was amused at the thought of the little boy his daughter was babysitting harboring deep, abiding love. I seriously doubted that’s what I felt at eight, but she was my obsession by my teens.

  Ryan was my first wet dream. A daily thought. My fixation. The only reason I could find for enduring my fucked-up life. I lived each day wondering if she’d ever return and hoping every night my wish would come true. I wondered what her life was like. Had she known love? Was she happy? Was she living her dream of stardom? Did she ever think of me?

  I’d left her something to remember me by. When missing her got so intense I couldn’t breathe, I’d rub the scar. I remembered the feel of her lips against my skin and the severe pain that penetrated my arm as her teeth sank in. My fault. Payback’s a bitch. And Ryan could be one.

  By the time I turned thirteen, puberty hit—big time. I towered over my own father. I filled out, and Mr. Chase had been right. My blue eyes attracted anything with a pussy. I’d finally found a way to deflect my constant yearning for Ryan. I passed the time by fucking. Way different from a solitary wet dream. I also began to drink and started smoking pot. It wasn’t only a way to extinguish Ryan from my mind, but I could escape my father also.

  My sister Trina was appalled and shocked when I begged her to buy me condoms. She knew about the drugs and the liquor. But I’m fairly sure I pushed her over the edge when she found out I was having sex at thirteen. Regardless of my age, I exhibited some responsibility—the last thing I wanted was to knock someone up.

  It was at that age when my father tried to kill me. He almost succeeded. The bastard had gone after my mother, and I’d gotten in the way. Trina saved both of us. Even so young, it was in the hospital I knew it was time for a change. Somehow, I recognized I was the only one who could save myself. And that started the revision of my life. I’d endured the trauma of my father and attempted to quell it with booze, drugs, and sex. Ryan was never far from my mind… even then. I knew she would want me to be a decent man, and as much as I needed to accomplish that for myself, doing it for me was inconsequential. I wanted it for her—if she ever came back.

  My father went to prison, an
d I studied my ass off. Between my compassion for animals and my undying love for Ryan—both kept me motivated. If she ever came home, I needed her to see me as a mature man, not as the little boy she used to babysit. My body and mind bore the scars of continual beatings and the hell of years gone by. Somehow, I’d always known I could cope with anything, survive my past. And if she came back, she would be my future.

  As I grew older, I suppose I should have been ashamed sleeping around. I’m a guy. That’s what we do, and I needed a pseudo body. Regardless of the countless women I slept with, they’d all been her. Every single woman I’d held, kissed, or fucked had always been Ryan. These women were a poor substitute, and I’m sure most of them knew the score. I never promised anything. I never professed love to any of them. I couldn’t. I might have been a man whore, but I was an honest one. I would only ever love one. Not to toot my own horn, but I think they just wanted to bang Andrew Seamus Michaels. It was a perfect arrangement. An equal opportunity fuck. We both got what we wanted.

  I spent so much time wishing for her to come back. There were instances I wanted to give up. Wanting her became futile. There came a time when I became more desperate than usual. I’d never truly believed in a higher power. I was more of a “sitting on the fence” type of believer. I wasn’t sure of the existence, but “just in case,” I didn’t want to discount God one hundred percent.

  It appeared to me he blatantly ignored my abusive childhood. So I’d never given much thought looking to him for help with Ryan. My only real excuse for reaching out was a “last-ditch” effort. I was willing to try anything. I mean, it couldn’t hurt. I quit talking about her when I turned eighteen. Every time I thought about her, it tore my heart a little more. I suffered in silence. Whatever I feelings I held for her were now just between God and me.

  As time went by, I realized maybe seeing Ryan again was an illusion. I’d yearned for it so long it was now part of my everyday life. I might have not spoken her name, but she was never far from my mind. I spent quite a bit of time attempting to convince myself I should let her go. However, what I felt for her was buried so deep in my soul it infiltrated my marrow. I knew my life would always be desolate. There would always be a hole so deep and dark, a void only she could fill. She gave me reason. She gave me breath.

  Ryan did come home. I should have been ecstatic, but my feelings were jumbled. The only reason she returned after thirteen years was her dad’s death. I loved Mr. Chase, and I was torn between elation and agony because of the circumstances. I wanted him to be here. To witness me follow through on my promise. I hadn’t even been on her radar. I probably never even crossed her mind. The kid who bit her and scarred her for life. Her dad’s passing forced her home. She and he had been estranged for years, and now she’d come home to say good-bye.

  I dreamed a different scenario. Our eyes would meet and she’d instantly fall in love with me. We’d live happily ever after. Our life would be perfect. Everything I’d gone through would have been worth it. Because it brought her back to me. Wishful thinking.

  I had no idea. It started out badly. Ryan was her worst enemy. She spent too much time trying to sabotage any possibility of us being together. Other people tried to throw a wrench into our relationship. The entire time I was wooing her, the journey was littered with endless potholes. It was exhausting. I had absolutely no doubt in my mind we were meant to be. Nevertheless, the fucking universe had other ideas. God had another plan. And I was pissed at both of them.

  ~1~

  “Mr. Michaels, are you sure I can’t bring in a cot for you? Wouldn’t you be more comfortable?”

  I look up from my chair and inhale a breath as I stretch my legs. I’m tired and achy. I probably look like shit and smell like stale coffee and body odor.

  “I think it’s safe for you to call me Shea. It’s been, what, almost two months, Lynne? We’re practically family,” I say with a forced grin, remembering that Ryan was the only one who called me by that name. Lynne is now an integral part of my life, being my wife’s nurse and primary caretaker. She’s the one person who offers me a virtual life preserver when I feel like I’m drowning.

  I stand up and walk over to the bed where Ryan lies. Sweeping her hair away from her forehead, I press a kiss to it. She looks ashen.

  “Do you think she can hear me?” I ask the nurse as she checks the vent.

  “Most of the doctors here don’t think so—not with such a severe brain injury. If you want my personal opinion… absolutely,” Lynne replies as she touches the crucifix around her neck.

  I flop back down in the chair, rubbing my weeks-old beard. “Umm… God and I aren’t on good terms right now. I’ll go out on a limb and say we’re at an impasse.”

  I watch as she fluffs Ryan’s pillows and tucks in the blanket.

  “I’m not even sure if I believe in him… or her.” I shrug my shoulders as I cross my legs.

  “That’s okay, Shea. You don’t need to believe in him, because he believes in you.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that before. I’m angry. I’m pissed off. This—none of this is fair,” I say as I flail around my hands. “What if she never wakes up? What if she stays like this permanently?”

  “From what I’ve heard, you’ve endured far worse. This is just another hurdle. I hear you sometimes you know—while you’re telling her stories. I find it hard to believe you went through all of that just to have it conclude at this point. And remember, you have a little girl who relies on her daddy and a son that will need you too. You have to be strong for them. You can never give up. As long as you have hope—you can persevere. You are a survivor. Be strong for all three of them. Ryan would never expect anything less.”

  I listen to the echo of her words as she slips out of the room, closing the door behind her. Once again, she leaves me in utter silence to relive the last eight weeks. Life is never fair. And if this is a test, fuck you. I have had enough.

  We’ve had an amazing life. We chose to live in the home Ryan grew up in. Since we remodeled most of it prior, we have plenty of room for our growing family. She’s still working at the Christoff Agency but plans to take the last few months—doctor’s orders. Ryan had a tough time when she gave birth to Holly, so with Riley, they gave specific orders. They want her on semi bed rest the last two months of her pregnancy.

  My veterinary practice is thriving, and it allows not only freedom, but gives us a very generous income. Honestly, neither of us has to worry about money. My father left me more than I’ll ever need. But I wanted nothing from him. The only reason I even held on to my inheritance was for our children’s future. Otherwise, his money can burn in hell with him.

  Almost two months ago, I watched as Ryan left the house to go to the mall. Luckily, I was off that day and had chosen to take care of Holly. I still cringe at the possibility that our daughter could have being in the car with Ryan when she was slammed head on by a drunk driver. Her truck was demolished, and I found it hard to believe she survived. I became irrational and hysterical as I ran into the emergency room. The love of my life. My wife of three years. The mother to our daughter Holly and pregnant with our son. My entire world had crumbled, and I barely retained what the ER doctor said. Most of the injuries were head trauma. Ryan had a severe brain injury. She was comatose as well as ventilated. The baby was fine and would be as long as no other complications set in. He was being monitored twenty-four hours a day.

  Trina and Quinn took Holly so I could stay by Ryan’s side. Over the past weeks, I attempted to see my daughter every other day. But I didn’t want to be away from Ryan. Whichever way this goes, I have to be with her. I’ve been sleeping in the chair next to her bed and eating in the cafeteria all these weeks. Occasionally, I sneak a shower and shave in the hospital room bathroom. Bathing and eating became a reluctant chore.

  I get up and walk into the bathroom. I splash water on my face as I peer into the mirror. My clothes hang on my six-foot-five frame and my eyes look sunken. Lack of sleep and sustenance is
catching up to me. If it weren’t for Holly and my soon-to-be son Riley, I’d be happy to lie down in oblivion beside her.

  I have serious doubts I’ll be able to survive this loss. I know I have children to consider, but for just this moment, I choose to be self-serving. I’ve waited so long for Ryan. We’ve endured so much to get to this point, and you would take her from me? I look up, cursing at God. Tears flood my eyes and one slips out and rolls down my face. Crying, for me, has become a daily staple. I don’t care if it’s manly or not. It helps relieve some of the pressure. The pain in my heart. I’m not sure I can live without her. I don’t know if I want to. She’s the reason I live. I survive. Ryan is the reason I breathe.

  “Anyone here? Andrew?”

  “What the fuck are you doing here? You have some nerve. I’ll give you that. Just leave, before I call security.” I pin her with a cold stare as I toss my towel back into the bathroom. I shake my head furiously in disbelief she’s in Ryan’s hospital room.

  Carrie stands there solemnly, holding a small bouquet of flowers. I haven’t seen her in over three years. Our last meeting was less than cordial. And after what she did to Ryan, I never missed her. For a woman, she has balls showing up here.

  “Andrew, please, I came to see how Ryan is and bring some flowers.”

  “She’s in a coma. She’s on a vent, so dump the damn flowers, and she’s still breathing, so if you’re hoping to rekindle our past relationship, FUCK OFF!”

  I watch as Carrie blanches at my harsh words. True, it’s not natural for me to be such a bastard. But because of Carrie, I’d almost lost Ryan years earlier. It’s hard for me to contemplate forgiveness when I still can’t believe I’d been in a relationship with such a vindictive bitch. When Carrie found out about us, she became cruel. Now it was my turn.

  “How interesting you show up when my wife is comatose. So she can’t defend herself. I’m almost speechless, Carrie. Isn’t it time you let go? I’m married and have a family. Can’t you just leave us alone?”