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PAPER THIN

Copyright © 2015 by Je

Editing by H. Danielle Crabtree

Cover Design created by Lindee Robinson Photography

Cover Model: Megan George

Formatting: Champagne Formats

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Other Books

Dedication

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

Thank you

Coldcreek Companion Series - Break You

Prologue

Chapter One

Purchase Information

A Risk Worth Taking

Chapter One

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Other Books by Je

Succubus Kiss

Kiss of Awakening, prequel novella

Seduce, Book 1

Savor, Book 2

Tethered

Catalyst

Conjure

Confined

Marked Duology

Marked

Changed

Coldcreek

Break You

Control You

Wreck You

Forget You

Reaper Novellas

Touch

Hereafter

Unloved

The Unloved

The Damned, Unloved novella

Exhale

Shattered Soul

For anyone who has ever felt paper thin.

“OPEN THE DAMN THING. You’re staring at it like it’s the scariest thing you’ve ever seen.” My roommate laughed. Her red hair swayed around her shoulders.

She was right. I was being stupid and melodramatic, exactly the type of girl I hated, but my sister had never sent me a letter before. We talked once or twice every couple of weeks on the phone. That was about it. Our distance was my fault. I completely took the blame for it, but only because her calls scared the shit out of me. She never had anything good to say, not about our mom at least.

My fingers closed tighter around the envelope Sadie had tossed onto my bed as though it was nothing other than my sister’s latest attempt to reach out and bond.

Who knew? That could be the reason behind it. The letter could be a new way Emma decided to bypass the ignore button on my cell. I had a hard time believing she would do something so drastic. Who wrote letters anymore? Why couldn’t she shoot me a text or leave a voicemail? What if something horrible had happened to Mom, something so bad she couldn’t bring herself to tell me over the phone or through a text?

“Good grief, Charlotte,” Sadie huffed. “Want me to open it for you?”

I swallowed the lump rising in my throat and shook my head. If it was something about my mom, I wanted to be the one to read it. “No. I’ll do it.”

“Then do it already!” Her hands lifted in the air as her voice rose an octane or two in exasperation. “The suspense is killing me!”

My lips twisted into the tiniest of smiles. Sadie didn’t have any sisters; she had brothers. Three of them. Her family was picture perfect. A mom and a dad, three brothers, a buttload of aunts, uncles, and cousins. Both sets of grandparents were still alive and kicking. I had Emma and Mom. My dad bailed on us when I was two and Emma was five. I never understood why. Emma said she didn’t remember our parents ever fighting. Mom attested to this and claimed he simply realized being with us wasn’t the life he wanted. She never badmouthed him, which looking back surprised me, because I could see how easy it would be to do such a thing—to blame him for her single-mother troubles. She would only tell us settling down and raising a family wasn’t always right for everyone. It hadn’t been right for him, but unfortunately he’d come to the realization one wife and two kids too late.

Needless to say, Sadie didn’t understand the issues involving my family and me. Family was a magic word to her. To me, it wasn’t. We had different definitions.

“Open it! Open it! Open it!” Sadie started chanting, dragging each syllable out.

I glared at her. The excitement from what the letter could say had brightened her blue eyes and plastered a childlike smile onto her face. “Fine.” I sighed.

My fingers trembled as I flipped the envelope around in my hands and tore it open. I stared at the folded slip of purple paper inside, still debating whether the news my sister was trying to give me could be anything good. It had to be. Purple paper had to be something good. Emma wouldn’t write anything earthshattering on purple paper. Blue or gray maybe, or green even, but not purple. Purple was her favorite color. Writing sad news on her favorite color would tarnish it forever in her mind, wouldn’t it?

I slipped my fingers inside the envelope to retrieve the paper while kicking myself for not answering her last few calls. The Montgomery stubborn streak had gotten the best of me after our last conversation, and now I regretted it. My mind drifted back to why I was so pissed at her, trying to remember what it was she had said that set me off, but nothing stuck out. I was too focused on what I might find written across the purple stationary my sister had bought last year during an Easter sale at the dollar store. The memory of her saying she loved the spacing of the lines in that overly excited voice of hers tumbled through my mind. I couldn’t understand her obsession with stationary products.