Tidal Love

  Tidal Love

  Author History

  My name is Kelly McMullen Lowe and I was born on March 19, 1986 to the proud parents of Christine Greenlees Beaumont Steedman and Hugh Patrick McMullen. My parents taught me the value of life and they showed me how to succeed. I married David Lowe, on December 30, 2006 and we have two wonderful children named Dylan and Tianna. Over the last couple of years, I was unwell, and I put all of my time into my family and reading. In 2012 I wanted to commit myself to writing my own novel. I have put a lot of time and effort into all of my books. I hope that you all enjoy them, as much I did writing them.

  Acknowledgments

  First of all, I would like to thank Francescca Wingfield for helping me to create a beautiful cover for my 21st novel. The moment I saw this cover, I just knew it suited this story.

  Secondly, I would like to thank Karen Sanders for editing my book. This process is always so much easier with you on my side. I could not ask for anyone better to polish my manuscripts. You turn an ugly duckling into a beautiful swan. And you’re such an amazing person.

  Also, I would like to thank my family and friends for putting up with me over the last couple of years. My husband will get some sense out of me for a couple of weeks, until I start writing again. This book would not have been possible if it wasn't for the support of my husband. I love you to the moon and back.

  Next, I would like to thank my children for being my little angels. I love you dearly and you mean the world to me. I hope that one day you will be able to read mummy's work. In the meantime, Dylan, you can read the blurb. My son is my little book worm. I hope when he gets older, he will still enjoy reading just as much.

  Finally, to all the ladies in my street team and review group, I can’t thank you enough for sticking by me lately. I love you all. I can’t possibly mention you all, because I would be sure to forget someone, and each of you mean so much to me.

  Special Acknowledgements

  I would like to thank Yvonne Eason for everything she does for me, from kicking my butt when I need it, plaguing my life for more books, and for beta reading my work. I love you, lady. I probably would have given up lately, but you have kept me going. For that, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  Much Love,

  Kelly

  xx

  Dedications

  This book is dedicated to my sprinting buddy, Toya Richardson. Without her sprinting with me, I probably wouldn’t have been anywhere near publishing this book. This was my lockdown project. I wasn’t fussed about finishing it, but once I started it, the characters captured my heart and it became very easy to write their story.

  So, thank you, Toya. Your friendship, love, and support mean so much to me. I can’t wait to see you again in 2022.

  Much love,

  Kelly

  XXX

  Prologue

  Harleigh

  How on Earth did my life become so messed up? I had it all; the house, the fiancé, the great job… now, I have nothing.

  Well, I still have the fiancé, more’s the pity. My life has become non-existent because of his obsessive ways.

  I was an English teacher, teaching eleven to eighteen-year-olds in a secondary school in Glasgow. I used to make the fifty-minute commute there every day from Stirling. It was something I loved. I woke up happy every morning, knowing I was doing something I wanted to do. Then, along come Martin. He was a real estate developer. All was great in the beginning, but I think the power from him becoming a partner in his company went straight to his head, because life changed.

  Now, I must work from home as a freelance editor because it’s the only thing I can do to bring in an income. I can’t leave the house without him. The few times I have nipped out on my own, it caused World War Three, and I ended up with serious injuries. I can’t even speak to my friends without him around, so now I don’t bother seeing anyone because he just growls at everyone, and it’s uncomfortable for them and me. I’m living like a recluse.

  My family is concerned about me, but what do I say? “Oh, yeah. You have every right to be worried about me. My fiancé is beating me to a pulp when nothing goes his way, and he despises the ground you all walk on.” That would make for an interesting conversation, one where my older brother, Gavin, would end up in prison because he would kill Martin with his bare hands and enjoy inflicting pain on him for everything he did to me. It isn’t worth thinking about.

  I look at the clock and notice it’s nearly time for Martin to return home. My heart feels like it misses a beat. The butterflies swarm in my stomach, and they’re not the good kind. They’re the kind that appear when danger is near.

  I try to steady my nerves. I’ve got everything prepared. His dinner’s in the oven, the housework is done, and I’m dressed in something my grandmother would wear. I hate the way I have to dress. Anything I used to wear annoys him. I’m a slut, a whore, someone asking for trouble. And nothing I ever wore was provocative. I dressed casually most of the time. I was a schoolteacher, and I dressed impeccably to make a good impression on my students. I didn’t like to show a lot of skin back then, but now, I’m as well wearing a snowsuit all year long. The only time my skin is free to breathe is when I take a shower. Even then, it’s a quick shower so I don’t waste water, which will cause more arguments and possibly more bruises to add to my collection.

  It’s safe to say that my life is an existence. One I’m getting so tired of. I feel older than my years here, and I fear if I don’t do something to get away, I’ll end up dead.

  I save the document on my computer and close it. Martin doesn’t like me working on anything when he’s home, but he can ignore me and work through whatever he likes. He’s a hypocrite. One I’ve come to loathe. One I’ve tried every way to get away from, apart from bringing in my family, because I don’t want them to get hurt. I don’t want them to suffer because of my choices. I need to work through this mess myself. I made my bed. I’ve inflicted this on myself for being weak. I can sort my life out myself.

  I will sort this out myself.

  The front door slams shut, and I jump. I quickly stand from the table and make myself busy at the oven. I take out Martin’s dinner and place it down on the table just as he walks into the kitchen. He walks over to me and grips my chin in his hands. I look into his navy eyes and cringe when I see the deep, dark menace I’ve come to know. He looks pissed off, but that’s nothing unusual lately. He’s constantly pissed off. The man I once liked is long gone.

  “H-hi,” I stammer.

  I hate how he makes me feel weak and out of control. I was a strong, independent person before he changed me into this quivering wreck. Now, I’m a shadow of the person I once was. I don’t like the person I am now, and I can’t see me ever being the same again… not as long as I live here under his wrath.

  “You look…” He looks me up and down and laughs before he turns his back on me. “Ridiculous.”

  The blood runs cold through my veins and I look down at my feet. I hope and pray the ground opens up and swallows me whole. Sometimes the mental abuse is worse than the physical abuse. I can cover up the scars and forget about them, but the words he uses are on repeat all the damn time. It’s like he takes pleasure in dragging me down.

  “What is this?” He pushes the plate slightly in my direction.

  “A chicken chasseur.”

  All of a sudden, without any warning, the plate speeds through the air and just misses my head before smashing off the cupboards behind me. I shriek. I’m angry that I cooked that meal all day, but I’m terrified of the mood he’s in.

  I can’t take this anymore. I look at Martin, who has the biggest smirk on his face. He looks evil and deranged. I’ve spent all day cooking and cleaning, for what? For him to come home and have a tant
rum.

  “What the fuck is your problem!” I straighten my spine and grow a backbone. I need to take back some control of my life. I’m fed up of being treated like a piece of dirt. I’ve let it go on long enough.

  This ends tonight. I either walk away from this house and never return, or my family gets me back in a wooden box. Either way, it ends. It has to.

  “Really? Tonight is not the night for you to be dramatic, Harleigh.” He stands from the table and marches over to me, gripping my throat tightly. “You belong to me and you will do as I fucking say. I don’t work all hours of the day to eat chicken.”

  His grip tightens on my throat and I feel my eyes bulging out of my head. He pushes me out of his hands, laughs hysterically, and walks out of the kitchen. I know what I’d like to feed the bastard. Rat poison.

  I rub at my neck, hoping to help the air flow to and from my lungs more easily. When I can breathe more freely, I stumble forward and grab Martin’s car key from the worktop. I see the path from the kitchen to the front door and I take a few steps to test the waters. I don’t want to run and draw attention to myself, but I can’t take baby steps either. I need to get out of here, and preferably unnoticed by the monster I thought I once loved. I shake my head at that thought, because I must have been crazy to get into this relationship.

  Nothing comes to stop me, so I take one step, two steps, three steps… until I finally reach the front door. I sigh with relief and turn the door handle slowly. Only, when it’s all the way down and I try to open it, it doesn’t budge. I feel my smile disintegrate when realisation hits me. Of course, he was never going to make things easy for me. He was never going to let me walk out of here.

  “Tut, tut, tut…”

  I look over my shoulder and Martin’s dangling the house keys on his finger. I feel my heart pound in my chest. I know he isn’t going to let my disobedience go unnoticed. I’m going to pay for trying to break out of this cage.

  “Please, Martin, just let me go. I can’t do this anymore. We can’t do this anymore. This relationship is killing us. It’s toxic.” I sob erratically.

  “There is no we in this house, Harleigh. You’re nothing. Do you hear me? Nothing!” he yells. “You’re just the pathetic dogsbody.”

  He stomps closer to me and pushes me against the door. He rips my shirt open, sending the buttons flying everywhere. He’s done this before, but I won’t let him take another strip from me.

  I knee him in the groin, and he steps back from me enough to let me run away from him. I aim for the stairs, but he catches my leg and I fall up the steps, hitting my head on the step in front of me. My head feels fuzzy and my vision swims in and out of focus. I try to stand up and run, but Martin rounds on me from behind and pushes me into the stairs. Trying to break free from him, my face burns from the friction the carpet is causing. I feel like my back is going to snap with the pressure he has on me. The need to get Martin off me is heavy, but his weight is even heavier. I have no chance of getting him off me, not with how fuzzy my head feels and the nausea floating around my stomach.

  I’m defeated before it’s even begun.

  “You. Will. Not. Leave. Me. Bitch.” He spits into my neck.

  He grabs the back of my neck with one hand and holds me down like someone would with a wild animal. His spare hand rips my trousers and pants down to my knees. It’s at this moment that I give in fighting this. The power is being drained from me by the second. He’s going to win. He always wins.

  “This is mine.” He grabs my crotch and rams his finger inside of me painfully. It’s like he gets off on hurting me.

  The tears fall down my cheeks relentlessly and my mind drifts off to another world where fluffy unicorns and glitter is the worst that can happen.

  I like my make believe world.

  Life would be so much better in my other world, away from all that’s evil. Away from this man.

  Chapter 1

  One Year Later

  Harleigh

  Looking out into the schoolyard where children play, it’s always a happy place. Children are carefree and joyful. It’s a time I can remember easily. Growing up, I wanted for nothing. I had everything I needed, including the love of my family and friends. I was one of those kids who looked forward to becoming an adult, living independently, but life changed quickly when reality hit me square in the face… literally. That first night when Martin come home from the pub with his colleagues and burst my lip should have been a wake-up call for me, but I forgave him time and time again.

  “I’m sorry, Harleigh. I don’t know what came over me. It was a terrible mistake that won’t happen again. I promise. Please, forgive me.”

  “Miss Harrison?” I look over my shoulder to the open door towards one of my students. Thankfully, my memory was broken before I could get stuck too deep.

  “Yes, Sharlene. What can I do for you?”

  I clasp my shaky hands between my knees to hide my uneasiness.

  “Do you have that extra work you said you’d have for me today?”

  “Ah, yes, of course.”

  I remove my real-life mask and put in place my teacher mask, where I hide everything for my students’ sake. What am I saying? I hide away from myself too, because at school, I’m just their teacher. I don’t have to be anyone else. My students don’t expect anything from me other than the person they’ve come to know and like. The person that teaches them everything they need to know about English.

  I stand from my desk and open my bag. I take out the folder I put together for Sharlene to work on while she’s away visiting family. The poor girl lost her mum three months ago and I’ve made sure to do all I can to help her study for her GCSEs next month. No child should have to bury a parent, especially not at a crucial stage of their learning, but cancer doesn’t care whose door it knocks upon.

  “Here we go. I’ve written down my email address on the front page in case you want to ask me anything when you’re away.”

  “Thanks, Miss. I appreciate all you’ve done for me. You’ve made me realise that English is the route I want to take when I leave school.”

  I feel the pride soaring through me. If I never do anything right in my life again, Sharlene’s words will echo in my head forever.

  “I’m glad I could help you. Don’t hesitate to contact me if you need anything. Anything at all.”

  “Thank you. See you in two weeks.”

  “Enjoy your trip.”

  I watch Sharlene’s back, and for the first time in months, I have a genuine smile on my face. Returning to work after Martin’s attack on me was hard, but it was something I needed to do to take back some control of my life. The headmaster of the school I used to work in was happy to have me back when I made the call. I commute daily and enjoy it. It’s amazing what a bit of freedom does for the soul.

  Each day, I take a piece of me back, but I doubt I’ll ever be whole again. Too much pain and heartache were caused at the hands of someone who was supposed to love me.

  “Miss Harrison, there is a visitor for you in reception,” the receptionist says over the speaker.

  I head out of my classroom and make my way along to the office. I have no idea who could be here for me, but it’s only my family who know where I work.

  I reach reception and see my brother, Gavin, leaning against the doorframe. He looks up as I approach.

  “Thank you, Mrs Digby.” I acknowledge the receptionist kindly.

  “Whatever has got that smile back on your face, you need to bottle it up and save it,” says Gavin, as I walk into his embrace and hug him tightly.

  “I’m doing what I love again.” I smile brightly. “Sign in and come along while I pack up my things.” I motion for him to follow me to my classroom. “What are you doing here, Gav?”

  “I just landed about an hour ago and I had to come and see my favourite sister. It’s like Fort Knox to get in here.”

  “Your only sister.” I laugh. “And it’s all security measures now. It keeps us and t
he kids safe.”

  Gavin is a pilot and he spends much of his time in the air flying from country to country.

  “How are you doing, honey?”

  I shrug and sit back down at my desk. “I’m okay. I’m much better.” I try to hide behind the lie I keep telling myself. Maybe one day I’ll believe it too.

  Gavin sits on a pupil’s desk in front of me and leans his elbows on his knees.

  “We’re all concerned about you, Harl.”

  “You needn’t be. I’m good. I’m working. Surviving,” I sigh, frustrated. “I’m much better than I was.”

  “But you’re not living, doll.”

  “What do you want me to do, huh?” I snap.

  It’s the same argument every time I see my family. I think they expect me to be jumping through hoops, swinging from trees, and partying on a school night. None of which was ever me.

  “I just don’t want to see you fading away to nothing. What is it? Five weeks until the summer holidays? Let me pay for a trip. Get out of here. Explore the world. Find yourself again. You deserve it.”

  I watch my brother with bated breath. I know he’s only doing what he thinks is best, but I’m more than capable of living my life the way I want to. I don’t need everyone telling me what to do, even though a holiday sounds good.

  “Where would I go? I’m barely living here, as you’ve just told me. I’m not sure I could go on holiday alone.”

  My house has become my safe haven. I can’t imagine being anywhere else alone.

  “Let me book somewhere for you. A surprise.”

  I close my eyes and think about taking a trip. Some sun, sea, and cocktails. No reminders of everything I’ve been through. No work. Just time for me to live a while.

  “Eurgh!” I growl out my response. “Do I have much of a choice?”

  Gavin shakes his head. “Nope. I’m not trying to control you or be bossy, I just want to see you happy again, doll. I want my carefree sister back.”