Enlightened Read online

  Table of Contents

  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

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Epilogue

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  Enlightened

  By: Charlotte Michelle

  Enlightened

  Copyright © 2017 by Charlotte Michelle.

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: December 2017

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-1-64034-281-1

  ISBN-10: 1-64034-281-8

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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

  Dedication

  A special thanks to my mom, Denise Hyde, for providing help in creating the lives of Dallas and Kayla, and to my grandfather, Ken Hyde, for inspiring me to become an author.

  Table of Contents

  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

  Epilogue

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  Prologue

  *Dallas*

  Saturday, September 5, 2015. It was just like every other day in Aurora, Illinois. The sun was shining; it had just rained the night before, so the grass was green and damp. There was no sign of angst or disaster. It was supposed to be a wonderful day.

  I had the day off work. I wanted to spend my weekend with my family, especially my younger brother. Kyle was ambitious, and I was some sort of role model to him.

  I never understood why. I was selfish, arrogant, egotistical. I mistreated girls and had no regard for my teachers. I also hadn’t been making time to spend with my family, either. So why was my little brother so keen on claiming I was his role model?

  Perhaps it’s because I’m the star basketball player at my school. Ever since he was five years old, Kyle would come to the courts and watch me shoot lay-ups and three-pointers. He was amazed, his big blue eyes taking in my every move.

  So around the age of seven, I started teaching him how to play. We needed another basketball player to carry on the Perkins’ legacy. Our father was an NCAA player for the Fighting Illini. He never made it to the pros. My mother wound up pregnant with me, and my father married her out of guilt.

  Kyle was quick to learn how to play basketball. It soon became customary to go to the courts and practice every Saturday night. However, when I started my job as a youth basketball referee, it became hard to carry out our tradition. But I requested Saturday, September 5th off specifically so we could hit the courts. It all should have been okay.

  Kyle was excited, as usual. And at the age of thirteen, he was getting good enough that he could hold his own against me. In fact, he beat me that game. Playing up to fifty points, Kyle won 50-47. It was a good game, and I was proud of him.

  Walking home was always gut-wrenching. I never fancied walking at night, not being able to see what was in front of me. Kyle was boasting that walk home, jumping up and down, running forward while reenacting the moves he pulled on me.

  Kyle was about ten feet in front of me when a black SUV pulled up beside us. Everything then happened in slow motion.

  I looked over at the car.

  A gun was sticking out of the window.

  I looked back at Kyle.

  He was still throwing his hands up, pretending to shoot a perfect three-pointer.

  I yelled at him, screaming for him to run.

  A loud, echoing boom resonated in the air, chilling me to the bone.

  I had prayed, hoped the bullet would hit me. But when it didn’t, I was faced with the devastating reality that my kid brother was shot square in the chest, right through the heart.

  Tires screeched as they pulled away, and I ran forward, dropping to my knees to pull my brother into my grasp. I sobbed, begging for him to live as I screamed for help.

  It was twenty minutes later when the paramedics arrived, and my brother was placed on a gurney, a white sheet draped over him.

  Saturday, September 5, 2015. The day Kyle Lee Perkins was murdered and I lost my brother.

  Chapter One

  Before

  *Kayla*

  August 29, 2015

  “Kayla, would you put that thing down?” my mother scolds as she walks past me, heading toward the kitchen counter to grab her purse and car keys.

  I mumble incoherently, refusing to lift my eyes from the pages of the book. Just a few more lines and I’ll complete the chapter…just a few more…

  The book is plucked from my grasp, and I let out a groan, looking up to see my mom holding it, her pointer finger wedged in between the pages to mark my spot. I bite my bottom lip, smiling sheepishly. She hates when I spend hours upon hours a day reading.

  But hey, I always look at it like this: I could be spending my time like every other high school student…getting drunk at chaotic parties or doing brain-killing, life-threatening drugs.

  She still doesn’t see it my way, however.

  “I have to go pick up your sister from rehearsal. Then we’re going to the grocery store. Do you want anything?” my mom asks, quirking an eyebrow.

  I stare at her for a moment. We share no resemblance…apart from our noses perhaps. Her hair is platinum blonde, and even though she dyes it, she was blonde from birth. Her eyes are a brilliant blue while mine are a dark hazel. She has paler skin that she goes to tanning salons to alter while my skin is naturally darker. She’s tall and thin, and I am short at five feet five inches and have a little more meat to my bones.

  I take after my dad, who was French and very much deceased
. While my mother does a wonderful job supporting two children, I miss my father more than anything. However, he left both Katie and me a great deal of money for our future, ensuring we have a good start in life.

  “Oranges, please. And some more Captain Crunch cereal.” I flash my doting smile. My mother shakes her head but seems to make a mental note of it.

  “All right. We’ll be back in about two hours.” I roll my eyes at how accurate she is. It takes a normal person an average of thirty minutes to shop. Meanwhile, it takes my mom a good two hours. “Hey!” she calls, and I lift from my thoughts, looking at my mom again. She points her Chevy Traverse key at me. “Don’t forget Kyle Perkins is coming over in twenty minutes. Twenty minutes, Kayla.”

  “Got it, Mom!” I salute her and hold out my hand for my book. She gives a little growl as she hands it back and leaves the house. Rolling my eyes, I open the book and proceed to the next chapter.

  Kyle arrives at my house twenty-five minutes later, unusually tardy. I hold open the door as the teenager walks over the threshold and straight for the kitchen table. I lean against the doorframe and look at Mrs. Perkins, who offers me a soft smile.

  “I’m sorry we’re late. He’s had a rough day.”

  “It’s totally fine. No worries.” I wave it off, returning her smile.

  “All right. I was just called in to the hospital, so my eldest son, Dallas, will be picking Kyle up. However, Dallas has to work today as well, at five. So the tutoring will have to be cut short by an hour. Is that okay?” Mrs. Perkins asks.

  I nod my head. Does she know she’s asking a teenager? One who desperately wants to spend the rest of her Saturday finishing Francine Rivers’ Redeeming Love? I’m totally fine with it, although I do enjoy Kyle’s company.

  Mrs. Perkins fishes through her purse and produces a fifty dollar bill. “I’ll still pay you in full.” She grins, a look of apology in her eyes.

  “Thank you.”

  “Bye, Kayla. Thank you again. Bye, Kyle! Behave!” she calls through the house.

  “Bye, Mrs. Perkins. Go save some lives.” She huffs and then turns to walk back to her car. Closing the door, I clap my hands and join Kyle in the kitchen.

  “You hungry, handsome?” I ask.

  Kyle is thirteen and looks much like his mom. His big blue eyes look up at me as he rests his chin on his crossed arms. I can tell by the expression on his face that something has happened. He has a look of sorrow.

  “Banana?” he asks. I nod my head and pluck a banana from the bunch. I also grab us each glasses of water before sitting across from Kyle.

  “Why so glum, chum?” I tilt my head to the side. Kyle accepts the banana and peels it from the bottom. I scrunch my brows together.

  Noticing my expression, he says, “When you peel from the bottom, you avoid those nasty strings.” I watch as he does so and am astounded to see he’s right. The banana is clean, with no dangling strings. He takes a bite and leans back in the chair, staring intently at the table.

  I don’t say anything to him. He heard my question, and he’ll answer when he’s ready. So we sit for a good three minutes as he eats his banana and I sip my water.

  “Dallas works tonight. Again.”

  Dallas. Everyone at Waubonsie Valley High School knows that name, no matter what grade you’re in. He’s the all-star basketball player. He turned Waubonsie from a football school to a basketball school in a matter of three games his freshman year. We have won state twice with him as our captain, when he was a sophomore and junior. Now we’re aiming for our third this coming winter.

  Dallas Perkins is confident and egotistical. He always has his arm slung around the shoulders of some girl; every week it seems to be a different one. His best friends, Tyler and Mikey, are always by his side, and the three of them seem to run the school in an oh-so-cliché way as well. With his exceptional grades and his exemplary skills at basketball, Dallas is looking at a full ride at his top school: University of Illinois.

  “He’s bailing on me again.” I frown, listening to Kyle.

  “He’s not able to play basketball again tonight?” I ask, even though I know the answer. Kyle nods his head, his mouth in a pout. I can tell he’s trying to control his emotions. “I know it’s hard to understand, Kyle, but your brother has responsibilities at his job. I’m sorry that it cuts into your time with him, however.” Kyle just simply shrugs.

  I let out a sigh and watch as he begins to dig his nail into the wood of our kitchen table. I know I should stop him. This is an expensive piece of furniture that my mom adores, but I can’t bring myself to trouble the boy further.

  “How about I play with you?” I ask suddenly.

  Kyle lifts his head, arching an eyebrow. “You? Play basketball?” The corner of his mouth lifts slightly, and I know he’s judging me. He thinks I can’t play.

  “I’ll have you know I’m a great basketball player.” I cross my arms over my chest, leaning back in my chair.

  “I’ll crush you,” he challenges.

  “Let’s find out.” Kyle’s eyes seem to brighten, and he nods his head quickly. “All right. Only if you finish your homework,” I bargain.

  Moving quickly, Kyle unzips his backpack and pulls out his homework, slamming it on the kitchen table. Together, we attack his studies.

  We finish his history homework just as the doorbell rings. I smile and ruffle Kyle’s hair as I hop to my feet and jog to the door, pulling it open. “He did great today, Mrs. Per—” I cut myself off when my eyes land on Dallas.

  Stupid. And I knew he was coming too…

  Dallas offers me a bored look as he takes in my appearance. I’m wearing black sweatpants and a gray Star Wars shirt. My hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail, and I flush, understanding that I look mediocre next to him.

  “Kyle! Let’s go!” Dallas shouts, his blond hair falling across his forehead. He flips it to the side and shoves his hands into the pockets of his black skinny jeans. I gulp, watching as the muscle cords in this arms flex as he does so. He is definitely a fit teenager.

  “Are you done?” he snaps, bringing me from my thoughts. I lift my eyes to blush even redder. He caught me staring.

  Lord, take me now.

  “Dallas! Kayla is taking me to play basketball at seven tonight! Isn’t that awesome?” Kyle cheers as he shows up beside me, throwing a punch to my arm. I jolt, instinctively rubbing the spot he just hit.

  Dallas snorts. “Should be fun.” He looks amused, and I’m sure he doubts my ability to play, just as his younger brother had a few hours ago. “Let’s go. I have to work.” Kyle’s smile drops.

  “I know you do,” he grumbles, walking out of the house. “See you at seven!” Kyle yells over his shoulder as Dallas leads him toward his dark green Jeep Wrangler.

  Dallas shoots me a look from across the yard as he gets into the car, almost threatening me.

  Stay away from my kid brother.

  That night, Kyle and I played to forty points. I beat him 40-38. Kyle is a really good player for his age. I even took the liberty of showing him some new moves that he could use on his brother. Sometimes being short is an advantage. And Kyle is quick.

  I haven’t a doubt in my mind that the next time they play, Kyle could beat Dallas.

  As I drive Kyle back to his house, I make a silent promise that whenever Dallas can’t play, I will fill his spot. Kyle has a love for the game, an undying passion. It should be fueled as much as possible, and if I am needed, I’ll help bring this boy up so that perhaps one day, he will be greater than Dallas.

  Chapter Two

  Denial

  *Dallas*

  September 21, 2015

  I roll out of bed this Monday morning feeling anew. No sad thoughts enter my mind as I pad over to my bathroom and take a quick shower. When I get out, I brush my teeth and proceed to my usual morning routines.

  I dress in tight khaki pants and a plain black t-shirt. I slip on my black Chuck Taylors, and after I perfectly style my hair, I head downs
tairs, where I see my mom sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of hot coffee in her hand. She is still dressed in her purple robe, her sad brown eyes staring into space.

  When she hears me, her head lifts, and our eyes meet. Her emotionless face takes up a look of confusion as she looks me up and down. “What are you doing?”

  “Going to school.” I shrug, leaning over the counter to grab an apple from our fruit bowl.

  “What? Why would you be going to school? Your brother just die—”

  “Still have to get good grades. Basketball is just around the corner,” I say, not listening to what she was saying.

  My mother begins to rant incoherently, talking about how Kyle was dead and how we need to stick together and mourn, but I’m already hiking my backpack over my shoulder. I walk over and kiss my mom on the forehead; however, she doesn’t stop trying to convince me to stay.

  “Love you, Mom,” I mumble and run out of the house before she physically locks me in the house.

  I understand why she wants me to stay home. But Kyle wants me to be a professional basketball player. He wants me to get good grades and take our team to State again this year. This is what he wants.

  I climb into my Jeep Wrangler. The top is still off from the summer, so the wind blows viciously as I drive to school, parking in the middle of the lot. Students chat as they walk into the building, many of the girls holding Starbucks cups from the local shop just down the street. Rolling my eyes, I hop out of the car and walk toward the school.

  I feel numerous eyes on me, all wide with shock and sorrow. I ignore them, hurrying to my locker where I know Mikey and Tyler will be waiting. We always meet at my locker in the morning.

  Tyler is there, leaning against the lockers with his arms crossed over his chest. His chestnut brown hair hangs in front of his eyes, and when he hears me approaching, he looks up. “Oh shit,” he mumbles. I arch an eyebrow and quickly twist the dial on my locker. “You’re here.”