The Everly Davis chronicles Read online

  The Everly Davis chronicles

  Never Ever

  Book One

  Four Ever

  Book Two

  Ever lasting

  Book Three

  Never Ever

  The Everly Davis Chronicles book 1

  Amelia K Oliver

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  THE EVERLY DAVIS CHRONICLES

  First edition. March 29, 2020.

  Copyright © 2020 Amelia K Oliver.

  Written by Amelia K Oliver.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  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 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

  The end of book Two

  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

  The end.

  Chapter One

  I SEE EVERLY DAVIS standing atop a cliff, looking down into the abyss. The water is fierce, waves crash over the rocks at the cliff's base like they are trying to reach her. The rain batters her exposed face and sends chills up and down her spine. Ferocious winds whip her long, flame red hair around her face, wrapping it around her neck. Her eyes are closed as she takes a deep breath. Filling her lungs to capacity, she can taste the salt and brine in the air. She feels it, deep in her soul. I know, because I feel what she feels, I see what she sees.

  Her feet shuffle closer to the edge, seemingly on their own.

  "I can feel it now. This is where I need to be." Her voice, full of fear, makes my heart tear in two. She turns slightly, opens her eyes and looks behind her, where she sees three shapes in the fog. She can't make out their features, but she knows they're here with her, for her. She can feel their love caressing her heart, their acceptance that she must do this. It makes what is to come much easier for her. She takes a step out beyond the cliff's edge....

  Everly

  "Jesus!" I yell as I bolt upright, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand. "That felt too real." I put my hand over my pounding heart as the all too familiar feeling creeps through me. It's like a living thing curling around my heart, squeezing. It started around four months ago when my adopted mother passed away. I suddenly couldn't breathe. The smog of the city suffocates me. I knew when my mum died, I had to get out of here. That's what I am doing today: leaving.

  Before she died, my mother told me she owned an old house by the sea, in a small town called Scarborough. Her grandmother left it to her, and now, she passed it on to me. My bags were packed, my tickets booked. I planned to leave the city behind, leaving all I knew. I was totally ok with that.

  Getting out of bed I head for the tiny window in my city apartment to pull back the curtain. It doesn't matter what time of day or night it is, the city of Manchester is always alight with false, overbearing brightness. As I drag my sleepy gaze upwards I remind myself that soon I'll be able to actually see the stars. Maybe then I'll be able to breathe?

  I hope so.

  I pad around the small space I've called home for the last two years. Picking up the pile of clothes I left out last night, I throw on some wine-coloured leggings and a knee-length baggy t-shirt that's a creamy white. Man, this place is a dump. No matter how hard I tried to make this my home, it just didn't come together. Can't put a flower in an arsehole and call it a vase, right?

  The wallpaper’s peeling off in so many spots, it's a wonder it's still hanging on. The small kitchenette belongs in the '60s, not in a high-price city complex. The miniscule bathroom... well, let's just say you could use the toilet and take a shower at the same time. No, I won't miss this place in the slightest. I can't wait to see the house my mother gifted me. It can't be any worse than this dive.

  It's almost time. All my affairs are settled. The flat is empty of all my meagre belongings. I'm ready for my Uber to take me to the train station. He's actually here on time! Huh, wonders never cease. Picking up my bag, throwing my phone and charger in it, I head downstairs. The driver leans against the car until he sees me. He stomps over and grabs my bags. He packs my life into the boot, while I climb into the back seat. What the...? It smells like a pub in here. Last night must’ve been a busy one for this guy. He gets in and asks me to confirm my destination.

  "Manchester station, please." Without answering, he pulls out into traffic and my journey begins. The city sites speed passed me while I doze a little against the car window. Nothing ever caught my interest here except maybe the many bookshops. But even those were bustling with all walks of life, spoiling it for a solitary person such as myself. I switched to electronic means of reading some time ago, but I miss the smell and feel of books.

  Before I get the chance to fully fall asleep, the driver yells, making me jerk in my seat. "We're here
, Miss. Manchester station, like you asked. Do you want a hand with your stuff?"

  Err yeah, I do. "Yes please, I'll grab a trolley."

  He heaves out a sigh, like I'm asking him to be the actual train and drag me, as well as my shit, all the way to Scarborough. Clearly he doesn't like his job. I search for a trolley, finding one abandoned in the middle of the street. I grab it and pull it back to the car. By the time I get back, all my bags are on the pavement.

  "Thanks, here's your fare."

  He looks down at my hand, a sneer spreading across his face as he takes note of the fact I haven't tipped him.

  Damn straight. Give attitude, you get nothing.

  When I'm done loading everything on the stupid fucking trolley - it's one of those with a dodgy wheel that has a mind of its own - I'm out of breath even more than usual. Fuck, this sucks so much.

  I take a puff on the inhaler the Dumbo doctor forced on me. It doesn't help. It makes my mouth as dry as the desert. Ugh, spitting feathers over here. God, I need a drink. I just want to be able to breathe. I know in my soul, I won't be able to until I get to Scarborough. That feeling in my chest kicks up a notch and I have to lean on the trolley before I fall down. The trolley moves. "Arrgh!" My face meets the pavement in an almighty fashion. Mother f... why does this always happen to me? Damn trolley.

  "Are you ok, lady?"

  Ha seriously, do I look ok? I'm kissing tarmac here. Of course, I'm not ok!

  "Yes, thank you. The trolley slipped out of my hand." I force myself to push off the dirty ground, my pinkie finger meeting chewing gum. Ugh, nice. "I'll be fine, thank you.” I rise to my full height, a great big crappy five foot five. Big things, small packages and all that. I notice every single person near me stares at me.

  Some laughing like I'm the entertainment for today, some looking on with pity. Shit. I need to be on the train asap before I end up in accident and emergency. Fucking people. Never seen a small, fat girl fall on her face or what?

  I make it through the station without further incident and onto the train. The two hour journey from Manchester will allow me to catch up on some sleep. I unpack my little blow-up pillow and settle against the window. I'm so tired from waking up early and from all the stress of the day so far, that as soon as I close my eyes, it's lights out.

  The wind is deafening, and I can't hear myself think. It whistles past my ears so fast, I fear they'll be ripped off. In front of me is an all too familiar scene. The cliff’s edge, the ferocious sea, its waves huge and menacing. It wants me. I know it does, and I don't want to fight it, but... they need me. I can't let them down. The three men are in the fog at my back. I don't know their names, or what their faces look like, but I can feel our hearts beat as one.

  I promised them forever, but if I take that step and plunge into the ocean, all will be lost. It won't matter anymore, but I love them. I need them desperately! Damn it, let me have them! Please?! I ... I'm ...

  "Excuse me, miss, this is the end of the line. You need to get off here."

  Shit, shit, shit. I come awake with a start, the train attendant shaking my shoulder. "Um, thank you." I run my hand over my face. I'm surprised to feel it's wet. Ah crap, was I crying in my sleep? Well, that's new. This time was different, but how can that be? The dream hasn't changed since it started. It’s the same every night. The cliff. The figures. The step I’d take. I've never experienced this before, this utter, soul-shattering loss. I rub a hand over my chest, trying to shake the feelings lingering inside of me. It doesn't work.

  As I scramble off the train with my bags and load them on to a nearby trolley, I notice the feeling in my chest is less of a ‘choke a bitch’ feeling and more of an ‘apply pressure here, please’ feeling. I'm not gasping for breath as I would be in the city. I still can't fill my lungs completely, but it’s slowly becoming easier.

  Huh. I'm in the right place then. God, I hope it continues to get better. I can't wait to fill my lungs for the first time in what feels like forever. Ahh, Scarborough. As I make my way through the old-fashioned station, I run straight into what feels like a brick wall.

  "Ah shit, I'm sorry. I was daydreaming." My hand automatically shoots up in front of me and meets hard, hot muscle. Oh my. Damn it, I've been here five minutes and I'm already bumping into someone. The trolley bangs into the back of my legs. Ah mother f....

  "It's fine really. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going either,” the deepest, most masculine voice I've ever heard replies.

  I drag my eyes up his body, and up, and up, and up they go. Shit, he's taller than a mountain. I finally reach his face, and my eyes instantly lock on to his.

  Light grey eyes stare back at me, framed by thick, dark brown lashes, the kind that don't belong on a man- Jealous - with crinkles around the edges. He's smiling, or at least I think he is? I can't seem to pull my eyes away from his.

  Uh, you’re staring like a loon, Everly! Look away, girl. Look. Away. I finally drag my eyes away from his, and that's when I see him in all his glory. There is a lot to see. Yup, he's a mountain, one I'd like to climb. Wait, what?! Where did that come from? His hair is so dark it's almost black. It's styled in that just-rolled-out-of-bed messy mass and flows passed his ears in soft curls. The thought that he actually put some time into styling it gives me the sudden urge to run my fingers through it. He's got the face of an angel and I'm pretty sure I'm drooling. Ah, crap.

  Big, beautiful grey eyes, thick brows, a strong Roman nose. Oh man, those lips! Those kissable, fucking lips; full and bow-shaped, without looking too feminine. How I'd like to....

  "My name’s Leyland, nice to meet you."

  Oh. My. God. Instant wetness. I'm going to hell. He's wearing dark blue jeans that are tight around the butt and upper thighs, and he makes them look sexy as fuck. His t-shirt has a huge picture of Freddy Mercury. Hmm, a man after my own heart.

  "Oh, hi." I do a creepy little wave like a bee just landed on my hand and I'm trying to bat it away. Smooth. So smooth. "I'm Everly, nice to meet you." My anxiety kicks in. I've got to get away from this guy. I’ve already made a fool of myself and really don’t want this to go even more sideways. I tug awkwardly at my baggy T-shirt, feeling self-conscious. Next thing you know, I'll be asking him for his num....

  "Are you new here, Everly? I've lived in Scarborough for a long time. It's a pretty small town so I know almost everyone’s face. Yours; however, well, I’d remember you."

  I'm a goner. My name on his lips, that deep, husky voice saying it like it's a prayer. Between how good he looks, his voice, and the fact that I get positive vibes from him, I think I'd like to bag myself a guy like this. No such luck, Ever. Your taste in men sucks.

  "Oh, um... yes, I am. Sorry, gotta run, gonna be late for umm... my thing." With that smooth speech, I dash around the mountain and exit the station.

  Leyland

  Wow. Just wow. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen nearly knocks me on my arse. Which is not easy, considering I'm over six feet tall and built like a brick shithouse. Everly. That's what she said her name was. Damn. She is tiny compared to my large frame; great sized breasts, a thick waist, round hips, and shapely legs. Curves in all the right places. She has a beautiful, heart-shaped face. Her peach coloured skin is flawless. Big, blue doe eyes you could get lost in, never wanting to find your way out. Oh yes, I’d remember her alright.

  She has the most amazing hair I’ve ever seen running down her back, resting above a gorgeous arse. When she got off the train, my eyes snagged on her hair through the crowd. I hadn’t been able to look away. Like flames frolicking in the wind, the sun streams through the station catches it, makes it appear alive. I was captivated by her eyes when she stands in front of me. They were the deepest blue I've ever seen. I feel like I've fallen into the ocean, and I can't find my way back to the surface.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see her hand waving around. Was she waving at me? I didn't know. I couldn't look away. She licks her bottom lip, my gaze flicks down, and I ju
st about come in my boxers; if I could come, that is.

  Loneliness sweeps over me but I know they aren’t my own feelings. I mean, sure, my job can get lonely sometimes, a quarterly meeting with my own kind isn't exactly enough to keep one such as me happy. But I've got my brothers, and they ground me. Damn. She's lonely. Usually, my mind kicks in to make a connection, but there was nothing. Weird. Her hand gently touches the spot over my heart, through my t-shirt. I could feel her heartbeat like it was my own. now, as she stumbles and trips away from me, it feels like she's taking half my soul with her. It's the strangest feeling. One I've never felt before like being pulled in two different directions, but not being able to see which way to go.

  That's when I realise what just happened shouldn't have been possible. Had I lost concentration when I spotted her getting off the train? Damn. I’d never slipped before. I hope no one saw me just blink into existence. I look around, making sure no one's staring at me in horror. Hundreds of people mill around, taking no notice of me.

  I come to the station every day around this time; I make a lot of connections here as the people get off trains after long journeys. It’s when they have time to think about how lonely their lives are. Their hearts call to me, beg me to find their connections. It's what I do, what I love to do. I search through the files in my head of all the eligible bachelors and bachelorettes, matching them with the lonely souls that arrive in my town. Obviously, I do that while incorporeal. Can't go around touching people's hearts when they can see you. Humans aren’t ready to learn about the things that roam in the light.

  So why was this beauty able to bump into me? I stood just in front of the exit in my usual spot. It was easier that way; I touch hearts as they pass and in doing so, open them to love, laying the groundwork for the future connection. It's step one of a three-part process. I'm a Cupid, and there's nothing I enjoy more than making these connections. But Red - that's what my heart calls her - man, she is something else. Shit, where'd she go? She manages to leave the station before I've finished my musings.

  Chapter Two

  EVERLY

  My taxi driver is a cheery fella who won't stop asking me questions. As we pull up outside the house that's now mine, I take no notice of his babbling. It's... it's beautiful. Much bigger than I ever expected. I climb out of the cab on numb legs. I notice it's just after four. The sun is still hot, but the breeze is cool against my face. I take in an even breath, trying to steady my pounding heart. "Wow." I can't believe this is mine.