Back to You, page 1
Copyright © 2023 by Tara Nolan
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 as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact authortaranolan@yahoo.com.
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 persons (living or dead), events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Book Cover by Tara Nolan
Formatted by Tara Nolan
Edited by HR Camarillo
First edition 2023
To my Grandma Gwen, whose love of books matches my own
Thank you for always believing in me
Author's Note
Back to You contains dark content that may be triggering to some, including explicit romance, suicide, abandonment, adoption and the search of biological family, harm to a child, sexual assault, graphic violence, stalking, and murder. It is not intended for those younger than 18 years of age.
Contents
Prologue
1. Emilia
2. Thomas
3. Emilia
4. Thomas
5. Emilia
6. Thomas
7. Emilia
8. Emilia
9. Emilia
10. Emilia
11. Emilia
12. Thomas
13. Emilia
14. Emilia
15. Emilia
16. Emilia
17. Thomas & Emilia
18. Thomas & Emilia
19. Emilia
20. Thomas
21. Emilia
22. Emilia & Thomas
23. Emilia
24. Emilia
25. Emilia & Thomas
26. Thomas & Emilia
27. Emilia & Thomas
28. Thomas & Emilia
29. Emilia
30. Thomas
31. Thomas
32. Emilia
33. Emilia
Epilogue
Glossary
Author's Note
Acknowledgments
About Author
Prologue
Relativity of time.
I didn’t understand much about it in school. Didn’t really care to. Not until I found a way to break it. Manipulate it into a time of my choosing. Except, when I reached the other side, it had other plans I couldn’t control. A world that was no longer mine. Dark. Scary. And completely antiquated. It sank its claws into me and wouldn’t let go. Determined to shred me, until there was nothing left of the girl I was before.
I’m not sure I would have survived if it wasn’t for him. That time suddenly became my own, and it did everything in its power to destroy me. But, little did it know, I already began to sink my own talons in. Into him. And I was holding on for dear life.
In that moment of clear certainty, I decided. I was the master of time. It did not control me.
And it could go fuck itself.
Chapter one
Emilia
Present Day
Sitting behind the large oak desk in the office above my parent’s Irish pub, I stared at my adoption papers, willing them to unlock the secrets they didn’t have. Of course, I knew they didn’t. But that didn’t stop me from searching for something I might have missed before. The curiosity hadn’t eaten away at me yet.
I was content with being adopted. Ever since I could remember, I have been a part of the family. I accepted it. Even when my bronzed skin shone darker than their alabaster tones. My dark features made me stand out from them. But instead of secluding myself, I was up front and center. They adored their little Italian girl, and I loved them right back.
I flipped through the papers again, barely hearing the band below as I scanned the lines. Parents: Unknown. Last name: Long forgotten. The only thing social services knew was my first name. Being three, that was about all I knew. And before I stopped talking, apparently, I was spitting out fluent Italian. I let my adoptive parents think I had forgotten it, but I still gravitated toward it as a child. They took me to Boston’s Italian district to immerse me in the culture and possibly to find any family who might have known me. No one knew where I came from, and any memories of my past life were forgotten.
Eventually, I started speaking English, they stopped taking me to the Italian district as often, and I became content with the family who had taken me in as their own.
There hadn’t been a reason to want to start looking into my biological parents. No sudden shift in circumstances. Just one day, I began to wonder how I made it onto the streets of Boston. Why hadn’t they found any bodies? Or had someone taken me, and I escaped? Maybe my parents abandoned me. Kicked me to the curb like a stray dog. There were too many possibilities that I refused to wonder about any longer.
I absently looked at the old photograph on the desk, my mind going over all the possibilities as I stared at the two brothers standing outside the pub on opening day. They had opened it some years after the Civil War. The black-and-white quality made it difficult to see their features, but the bright white of their eyes made me guess that maybe they were blue. The taller one’s hair was cut short, while the younger one kept his dark hair slicked back. I frowned at their stern expressions, wondering why they were so grumpy after achieving something monumental in a struggling time.
I ran my finger over the tallest one. There was something about him that always intrigued me. Even as a kid, I would find myself looking at the picture. From his fitted vest and jacket all the way down to his hands in his trouser pockets. The way he held himself as if no one could touch him. I think that’s what drew me to him. He looked like he wouldn’t take anyone’s shit in a time that most definitely shit on his people. That, and the brothers were quite attractive.
I rubbed my forehead, thanking the stars that they weren’t really my ancestors.
“Millie!” a familiar voice had my eyes snapping up from the picture. “What are you doing?”
I flipped the manilla folder closed and put it back in the drawer. “Nothing. What’s up?” I tried to smile at my best friend as one of her dark brows raised in disbelief.
“You’re on next.”
I quickly glanced at the clock, gasping. “I didn’t realize.” I grabbed my guitar and headed toward her. “You look cute,” I admitted, admiring her leather leggings and loose gold tank that accented the gold beads in her long braids.
“Thanks,” Shay smiled, bumping me with her hip.
“Is a special man waiting down there, or did you dress up for me?” I joked.
We started down the stairs, and Shay slapped my ass, making me squeal as I entered the pub. “Don’t tempt me, Millie Billie!”
A genuine smile spread across my face as I headed toward the stage. I started setting up as the other band packed up their instruments.
Shay whistled at one of the tables when I climbed the small platform, pounding her fists on the table like she was at a rock show. With a smile, I let go of my necklace and pushed my hair behind my shoulder, adjusting my guitar strap before stepping up to the mic. Music had always been a part of me, and when I opened my mouth, it was as if I had left this world, traveling on the currents of the lyrics flowing from my mouth.
As requests flew in, I sang one song after another all night. From old Irish drinking songs to the latest pop hits, I sang them until they seeped from my pores. The pub always filled with family, friends, and regulars who wanted a little relief from everyday life—always counting on my family for a good time with music and plenty of drinks.
I hopped down from the small stage and snagged a glass of water.
“Hey, Emilia, girl!” A man around my dad’s age and a weekly regular stopped me. “How about a Budweiser?”
“We don’t sell that shit here,” I laughed, our long-standing joke a comfortable familiarity. “How about a Guinness?”
“I’ll take it.”
“The bars that way,” I smiled. “I’m off tonight!”
He groaned, and a few people that overheard us laughed.
I made my way through the crowd, looking for Shay and Dani, our friend since high school.
“Your brother won’t serve us anymore,” Shay pouted when she spotted me.
I raised my brows as she swayed slightly into Dani next to her. “You do look a little wasted,” I laughed, noting how her dark eyes were glazed over.
“Traitor.”
“Look, I got to go,” Dani said, her blue eyes more focused than Shay’s. She leaned in and hugged us both.
“You’re good getting home?” I asked, worried she might drive. Just as I pulled back, I saw her brother by the door, waving to get her attention. Relief washed over me.
I locked my arm with Shay’s and steered her toward the bar.
“You’re so lame,” she whined as I told her she would be consuming some water.
“You weren’t saying that when I was on stage.”
“Yeah, well. You were cooler then.”
I laughed again and signaled to my brother, waiting for him to finish with a customer at the other end of the bar. He made his way over, green eyes rolling when spotting Shay’s condition. “I told you no more,” he scolded her, but his lips twitched, hiding a smile.
“Dick,” she snapped as he slid the glass of water to her. My eyes met his, and we both had to turn
The bar started to empty out as we sipped our water and talked. I positioned myself towards Shay, ignoring the few guys our age standing close by. When I found their gazes flicking back to us, I knew it wouldn’t be long until a brave one finally decided to sidle his way up to us. To my surprise, he faced me, and I had to suppress a groan. I was usually awkward whenever a boy talked to me.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said, running his hand through his golden hair. I nearly choked on my water. Did he say that to all the girls he wanted to pick up?
“I was wondering if I could buy you a drink?”
“Look at the time,” Shay interrupted. “I should help Sean close up.” She jumped down from her stool and gave me a wink that was so obvious I felt a blush creep over my cheeks.
I smiled politely, wishing he would just fuck off. “I’m not drinking tonight. Thanks, though.” I shrugged and started to turn away.
“Oh, c’mon. Let me get you something.” He held a hand up to Sean, which most definitely would annoy the shit out of my brother. That almost had me feeling a little better until Sean put two beers in front of us and winked. Actually, winked.
“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into with her,” Sean said, smirking at me as he walked away.
“Asshat,” I mumbled, which had him laughing and the guy looking between us, puzzled.
“My brother,” I said in explanation and tilted the bottle towards him. “Thanks.” I took a long pull and tried to think of a way to leave without being rude.
He nodded while taking in my dark hair and eyes. Then, his eyes flicked toward my brother, and his brows furrowed as he noted my brother’s noticeably lighter features. His frown deepened the longer he looked at Sean’s pale features, blonde hair, and blue eyes, a stark contrast to mine.
When it was apparent I wasn’t going to explain, he shifted toward me and leaned closer. “I saw you on stage. You’re a great singer.”
“Thanks.”
“How did you get the gig? You play around town?”
“My parents own the pub,” I said and watched as shock crossed his features as he looked back between my brother and me.
“I didn’t realize—”
“Most don’t.” I shifted on the seat, a part of me annoyed that we even had to have this conversation. I didn’t necessarily want to be just like my family, but I also didn’t want to look like the odd one out. I could have been content if people had just let it be instead of constantly reminding me that my roots didn’t start here. Or that maybe I didn’t have any roots, to begin with. Perhaps I was just a wayward seed with nowhere to go and nothing to keep me planted.
I fiddled with my necklace while he looked around the bar and tried to figure it out. Pictures of multiple generations of our family members hung on the walls, including old furniture and heirlooms passed down through the years. It gave the pub a warm, welcoming feeling; if you were interested in old stuff, it was a great place to go and look around. And a complete culture shock to my Italian ancestry.
I decided to let him struggle as I took another pull of the beer.
“So, I was thinking…” His brown eyes landed on mine, intensifying my agitation.
I leaned against the counter as I looked him up and down, his toned arms pulling at his t-shirt, and tried to pull up some attraction to him. I wasn’t shallow, and he was cute. I just had high standards, and most guys seemed childish to me. I held my breath as I waited for the next question.
“Can I have your number?”
A creeping, sinking sensation crawled out of my center before spreading to my limbs, weighing me down until I could not form a sentence. It took me a minute, but I turned him down gently.
When he walked away, his face was more aggravated than hurt. I rolled my eyes. Another player bites the dust.
I scoffed and turned back towards the counter, avoiding Shay’s disappointed stare.
“Why do you do that?” she asked when they were out of earshot.
“Do what?” I smiled sweetly.
“Turn down every guy.”
“That guy was a player.”
“You don’t have to marry him. Just, you know.” She wiggled her eyebrows, and my mouth popped open. “Maybe you wouldn’t be so cranky all the time.”
“I am not cranky all the time!”
“Who knows, maybe you’d become a sex fiend, and I’d have to keep you from pursuing them.”
A surprised laugh bubbled out of me, even as a blush rushed up my cheeks. I never said I wasn’t interested. I didn’t want to waste my time on a boy that just wanted in my pants before moving on to the next girl. Nah, I’d been abandoned enough in my life. I didn’t need to put myself through that again. “Maybe I already am, and you don’t know about my secret life.” I widened my eyes for effect.
“I want proof.”
I nodded like I had expected it. “I can get you the tape.”
Shay made a loud guttural sound as if disgusted with me. “Who are we kidding? You’re going to die an old maid with fifty cats surrounding you,” she said, her red lips turned down as she imagined my bleak future. “And then I’ll find them eating your carcass.”
“Gee, thanks,” I grimaced and ignored her while I straightened up and pushed chairs in. My dad had to leave early, so I promised I’d help Sean close up.
Shay didn’t push me anymore, but I knew she just wanted me to be happy. I just wanted to convince her that I already was.
Wasn’t I?
“Are you coming?” Sean asked sometime later, already around the corner and heading toward the back door.
“Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” I yelled, heading for the light switch.
I paused.
His black and white photo stared at me. I studied the plains of his face, his strong jaw, and the seriousness of his eyes. How his uniform pulled tight across his broad shoulders while a large rifle rested in his hand, completing his uniform. There was something about the older brother that caught my attention every time. It could have been his looks, which weren’t lacking in any way, and yet, what intrigued me more was the sadness consuming his eyes. What had happened? Was it the effects of the war? Which surely would trouble anyone. Or was it something else?
I leaned in as if getting a closer look would reveal a clue about this man’s life I hadn’t noticed before.
“Millie?” Shay yelled from the back, startling me.
“Coming!” I shouted, flipping the light switch.
I whispered goodnight as my fingertips grazed the glass of the picture, feeling like I was leaving a part of myself behind.
Then again, I always felt that way. I’d just gotten used to it.
Or I thought I did.
Chapter two
Thomas
1859 Boston’s North End
Thomas helped the other men unload the last box from their ship for the day. Letting it drop with a dull thud as the water lapped at the dock and the gulls’ called overhead. He lifted his shirt, wiping the sweat from his face.
“Mr. O’Connor! Thomas!” A sweet voice of a young English girl ran to him.
Thomas lowered his shirt just in time to see Annie Davis bent over, catching her breath, but still admiring the plains of his muscled stomach. He raised his brow, making her blush. Though she was coming of age and Thomas no more than twenty-six, her mother would whip his Irish ass if he showed any intentions. Of course, Thomas didn’t—he watched the lass grow up, for God’s sake—but he was just beginning to wonder if Annie’s thoughts might not be so innocent.
“What is it, lass?”
Her blush spread across her pretty features, all the way to her blonde roots as she tried to breathe slower. She must have run across town.
“It’s Ms. Worth. That Hughes and Knight are looking for her. The committee is calling a meeting.” Thomas bit back a snarl at the mention of the two slave-hunters from Georgia. Regular feckers in these parts, constantly making trouble.
Hiram swore behind Thomas. His friend pulled a shirt over his light-brown skin and started gathering his supplies to head out. Hiram knew first-hand how those men handled his people, and there was little time to waste.
