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This month, the lovely Fyrebyrd89, one half of the writing duo Fyremasen, shares a little detail on her upcoming story Sharp Left Turn with us.
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Hello everyone, I’m fyrebyrd89, currently one half of the writing duo Fyremasen.
Following a discussion with my 19 yr old daughter, Autumn, the idea for this fic evolved and I decided to write this one on my own. Thanks, Autumn (bc I know you're reading this!). She gave me an amazing, hopefully unique plot to build on and I couldn’t stop my mind from spinning with ideas. So here it is, and I hope I can do this topic justice.
I want to make a disclaimer now. I did research some facts in this story, but I also took liberties as it was very hard to find specifics on some events. I think you’ll understand why as the story progresses. One final warning and I’ll get to the sneak peek, there will be cliffies within this story—evil cliffies—but that’s just the way it unfolded.
Summary: In an instant your life can take a sharp left turn. Can you find the strength to lose it all and gain the unknown? Lives will be shattered, including your own.
“Bella,” she says finally. “It’s Jake.”
My heart starts to race and my breathing picks up. “Now, don’t get worked up, dear. We just have a little problem,” she soothes.
That doesn’t sound so bad. I start to count down from ten in my head, taking slow, deep breaths. When I’m able to speak calmly, I ask the most important question. “Is he hurt?”
She sighs into the phone. “Not really hurt, Bella, but his nose spontaneously started bleeding today.”
Relief sweeps through me and I sag into my seat. “That’s all? You nearly gave me a heart attack!”
The line is silent once again. “Esme?”
“He’s okay, Bella. I did call Carlisle, though, and he wants to see him … today.”
I sit back in my chair. “Okay, did you make him an appointment?”
“Nonsense. Any time you can get him there is absolutely fine.”
I mentally click through the rest of my day and decide nothing’s important enough that I can’t put off. I start shutting down my computer. “Let me finish up here and I’ll be right over. Say, forty-five minutes?”
“Sounds perfect. I’ll see you then.”
I buzz Tanya and let her know I’m leaving the office. Then I grab a few files I was supposed to look through and stuff them in my briefcase. I also stop by Jasper’s office
and let him know that I’m gone for the day. On the way back through the reception, I head towards Tanya’s desk.
“Hey, so what’s up?” she asks.
“I need to pick Jake up and get him over to see Carlisle.”
Her brows furrow. “Is everything okay?”
I sigh. “I think so. His nose has been bleeding so he wants me to bring him in.”
“Okay, that doesn’t sound so bad. Keep me informed?”
“Of course. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
I never imagined those words could be so far off base.
That doctor’s visit was the beginning of something no one could’ve ever imagined. It shattered me; left me in so many pieces that I wasn’t sure they could be put back together.
When Ms. Hale’s door opens again, a blond woman who’s probably in her late thirties or early forties appears. Her eyes widen imperceptibly. “Mr. Masen?” She walks my way with her hand extended. I rise and take hers. “I’m Rosalie Hale, thank you for coming out in person.”
I snort. “Did I have a choice?”
She chuckles lightly, but it’s laced with something else. Something I can’t quite put my finger on. “No, Mr. Masen, you didn’t have a choice. I would’ve gotten you here one way or another.”
I withdraw my hand. “You keep saying that, but I can’t imagine any reason you could come up with to have a court order me here.”
Her face turns somber. “I assure you, Mr. Masen, after we talk you’ll understand.” She turns and retreats into her office leaving the door open behind her.
I take the cue, and follow her. “Well let’s get to it then, I’m tired of all the cloak and dagger bullshit.”
She sighs. “I understand that, Mr. Masen, as is evidenced by you coming here. Just please, have a seat and we’ll get down to business. Trust me; this is going to be almost as hard for me as it is for you.”
“See there it is again.” I point to her. “All of those little remarks you keep making! What in the fuck could you possibly have to say to me that is going to be ‘hard’?” I make quotations. “I didn’t lose anything in Seattle when I left and I damn sure never planned on coming back.” I cross my arms. “Now you have me here, Ms. Hale, I suggest you start talking before I walk right out that fucking door!”
“Sit,” she demands, pointing to the chair on my left.
I obey, but only because I want some goddamn answers. I’m so sick of this fucking bullshit. All she seems to do is piss me off more. Wringing her neck is becoming more likely by the second.
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