Love, Cass
Table of Contents
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT © 2019
BOOKS BY SSK
WHERE TO FIND SSK
DISCLAIMER
LETTER FROM THE AUTHOR
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
PROLOGUE
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EPILOGUE
ABOUT SSK
WHAT TO READ NEXT...
FREE Sample - BK1: Declan
Declan Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
FREE Sample - BK2: Liam
Liam Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
FREE Sample - BK3: Luke
Luke Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
FREE BOOK!!
COPYRIGHT © 2019
Stephanie St. Klaire
Love, Cass
A Brother’s Keeper Novella
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, or other status is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever known, not known or hereafter invented, or stored in any storage or retrieval system, is forbidden and punishable by the fullest extent of the law without written permission of the author.
EDITOR: Monica Black
COVER ARTIST: Sarah Paige – Opium House Creatives
FORMATTING: The SSK Group
BOOKS BY STEPHANIE ST. KLAIRE
McKenzie Ridge
Rescued
Hidden
Forgotten
Fearless
Redemption
McKenzie Ridge Novellas
Christmas in July
Brother’s Keeper
Declan
Liam
Luke
Dace – 2019
Wylie – 2019
Love, Cass
The Keeper’s
Close Encounter
DILF Diaries
Oh Baby
Faux-Mance Novels
Liar
Rumor Has It
Sneaking Around
Bed Buddies
Visit Stephanie St. Klaire on social media for the latest news and updates:
Join Stephanie’s private Facebook group: SSK Book Krew
Love, Cass is a heart wrenching story about life, love, and loss. Loosely based on true life events of Author Stephanie St. Klaire, Cass is a relatable story guaranteed to make you look at life through a different lens. In this emotionally charged roller coaster of events, Cass represents life in fiction as she achieves triumph over tragedy, even in death. Stephanie shares her inspirational tale of victory with symbolic representation as she says goodbye to the girl she once was...through Cass.
As requested by Brother’s Keeper fans, here is the companion novel for Liam...
Letter from the author…
Dear Readers…
I thought I knew where to begin, but honestly…I find myself at a loss for words. Bear with me…
Writing this story was difficult, to say the least. It is extremely personal to me. I buried the character, Cass, in Liam’s backstory as a way to show who he was and where his grief came from. To show how painful love is and why it’s our greatest gift even when it hurts so bad.
I also chose Cass because she was relatable and someone I could write in total confidence — because she was me. Little did I know, those few appearances from my beloved character who served as personal therapy could cause such a stir. Readers would message me all the time thanking me and asking for more of her…meaning, more of me.
I am Cass.
I began to write as an escape from my own medical nightmare. It was also to leave behind a legacy for my children when I was told my time left was very limited. I wanted to show my children triumph over tragedy, and no matter the obstacle before you — even death — anything is possible. That was the one thing I could leave them that would last a lifetime. I also left them letters. Lots of letters. I was going to be there for every important moment, albeit in spirit. They were still my words, my emotions, my joy…my heart.
I was fortunate enough to beat my circumstance and get to live my best life, still writing, still fighting, still mom-ing, still wife-ing, but it’s through a different lens. Life has an entirely different meaning now, and nothing is taken for granted. My character didn’t have the same outcome, and I’m okay with that. Her death represents something greater to me — that I’ll never be who I once was. That girl is gone, and I miss her sometimes, but, man, am I glad to have gone through what I have, fulfil some of my purpose, and cling to silver linings I wouldn’t have otherwise recognized. Although our diagnosis was different, our journey was the same as we traveled a path to different fates.
I hope through Cass, dear reader, you see a piece of yourself or a loved one. Maybe you just hug your children or spouse a little more often, or see how the small things in life are the big things. Perhaps you find yourself dancing in the rain and not only seeking joy, but being joy. As you read this story, know Cass’s emotions, her heart, her letters…they are me — my actual words to my own family, some slightly fictionalized to fit the story. This is my real life, in fiction, with a twist…
Thank you for reading as I say goodbye to who I once was…
Love,
Steph
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
To those who have weathered their storms by learning to dance in the rain…
To those who have loved…
To those who have lost…
To those who have overcome…
To those who choose joy…
Prologue
There’s something they don’t tell you about fairytales. Happily ever after isn’t always promised. Happy forever? Now, that’s a thing. It’s the only truth tangled in the web of lies cloaked in sunshine and roses. For some, the fairytale ends before it’s time, with no real rhyme or reason. Mine did. It was over in the blink of an eye.
The royal castle becomes a penthouse apartment. The knight in shining armor is that cute computer nerd with abs and biceps. The epic kiss at midnight turns to wedding bells that lead to eternity.
Every girl dreams up her perfect fairytale at some point. Mine started just as any good love story would. In fact, it started better than most. I discovered mine before I even knew what it was. Some say I was lucky, but was I?
I met my Prince Charming right out of pigtails and just prior to that point where boys stop being icky and they just smell bad. Before I knew it, we went from best friends growing up to a whirlwind romance full of “dream come trues” and planning a forever every love-soaked romance novel tries to recreate. I was living the ultimate love story — skipped the frog phase and went straight to full-blown prince. My life was perfect…until it wasn’t.
This is where things get tricky and that lie they sell us comes to fruition. Forever is a loose term that doesn’t promise anything more than that…something that lasts forever. Sure, it still sounds nice because forever is a long time, but what
if I told you the truth was that forever can stand on memories of someone and a life without them.? The fairy tale changes a bit, doesn’t it?
I’m dying.
But I can’t leave until those left to pick up the pieces know how to live their happy forever…without me. I won’t get forever with them, but they’ll get a forever with me.
I’m Cassidy O’Reilly…and this is my story.
- 1 -
The Beginning…
Life isn’t always fair. I often wonder if it’s a constant barter — for everything good, you also have to take a little bad. Sure, you can have that expensive luxury car, but the insurance is going to be outrageous and it’s going to suck so much gas, you personally become responsible for that hole in the ozone layer. It’s like having your cake and eating too…but don’t forget the stomachache that may or may not be the battle shits waiting to happen. That’s the trade.
And what if I tell you the real things in life — the important stuff — comes with heavier consequences. I mean, that’s what they are after all. Aren’t they? To be blessed is to be cursed…maybe? I don’t know. What I do know is it doesn’t seem to happen to everyone, and I don’t have an explanation as to why. Maybe I’m just lucky.
I’m far from qualified to decipher the meaning of life, and quite honestly don’t have the energy to dissect the ins and outs of it. I have my definition of blessings and…not blessings. Hell, I don’t even know what to call it — seriously…not blessing? What I am qualified to tell you is life is full of ups and downs. Everyone can relate to that, right? Yay, I got a new car — shit it has a flat tire. Life.
The other thing I can say without a shadow of doubt is the ups far outweigh the downs. Most of the time. My current state is leaving that to question. I have a grand life with everything I planned and dreamed for…but it has an end date. I know what you’re thinking. Everyone has an expiration date — we all die, hello…that’s the life thing again. But what if you knew your end date — maybe not the actual day, but the measure of time you have left before it’s all over.
That’s what I’m struggling with. I’m a firm believer that we reap what we sow, and everything has purpose full of those damn silver linings — blah, blah, blah. Maybe that was my first mistake. Maybe that simple belief provoked a challenge from the universe, forcing me to find those fucking silver linings in the purposeful bullshit which exists in the life I have sowed.
My story goes a little like this…
I married my high school sweetheart, Liam O’Reilly. Brains, brawn, and a vocabulary so exceedingly brilliant, it’s intimidating…and sexy. None of that outweighs his heart, though. The man, even before he was a full-fledged man, was exceptionally kind, thoughtful, and gentle. That may not be entirely endearing, or macho, but it’s Liam…who doesn’t need to be labeled macho. He just needs to be Liam.
My Irish guy is one of six — one sister and five brothers. One of those brothers is his twin. Luke is equally handsome and charming, but where Liam was all about the books, Luke was all about everything except the books. A total jock. A total heartbreaker. A total playboy. He is good, though. Genuine. He’d bend over backwards to help a stranger because that’s who all the O’Reilly boys — and girl — were raised to be…good.
Each of the brothers went on to join various branches of military — some were the kind you just don’t talk about because I, for one, do not have that level of national security clearance…but they all did. They’re all honorable men who have served and protected with the best of them. Real life heroes, and I’m lucky to call them my family.
Carrigan, the only girl and baby of the family, chose a slightly different route. With five older brothers, she didn’t stand a chance in the military out of fear they’d show up all over the world stepping in front of bullets for her. She protects and serves in her own way as an EMT in our favorite place — our home away from home — McKenzie Ridge. Well-intentioned, protective brothers are better loved from afar because I won’t be responsible for my actions otherwise, she always said.
They are protective of her, like they are with everyone they love — and they love fiercely.
Liam went on to serve his country too, but in a much different capacity. His high school years were spent as the president of the robotics club and all the various tech clubs — he even created a few clubs to satisfy his tastes. My handsome, self-proclaimed nerd. Those clubs paid off in a roundabout way when his hobbies landed him in federal custody and prison bound for pecking his way into the backdoors of government main frames that shouldn’t have been penetrable by anyone, much less a high school kid with a niche for “hacking.”
In lieu of a hefty sentence and lifetime felon badge, he landed a job, followed by full ride scholarship offers to several tech schools…he pursued more than one, of course. That was Liam.
We married right out of high school and lived the proverbial dream. By day, we were young college students studying for the next final; by night, we were passionate lovers. Those were some of the best days of our lives — we didn’t have a care in the world.
College came and went, each of us moving onto the next stage of life with degrees in hand — Liam had several — ready to plan a family and take on the world. Liam continued his work on various government contracts while starting a security firm with his brothers as they each made their way back home, re-entering civilian life.
I helped them with menial tasks as they got off the ground, but that didn’t last long. Liam and I spent years tossing caution to the wind, not concerned about pregnancy. If it happened, cool. If it didn’t happen, cool. There was that universe again, playing it’s part by sending the stork our way.
Here’s another one of those blessings that comes with consequences. The happiest day of our lives was the day we found out we were pregnant. It was also the day we found out I was dying…the first time.
With that diagnosis came opinion after opinion as to how I should proceed. Recommendations — that’s what they called it. I didn’t like their recommendations because they began and ended with terminating the pregnancy we’d waited so long for.
Science is funny. They say it’s fact when most of said science is followed up with “we think.” They thought carrying to term and starting treatment after would be a bad idea, but they didn’t know — so much for science. They also didn’t know if starting treatment immediately would increase my odds. There were a hell of a lot of I don’t knows to make such a permanent decision.
With all the scientific facts and I don’t knows heavily weighing against each other and their alternatives, I made my choice. I chose her. Reagan. My smart and wickedly sassy little redhead.
Our world turned upside down for a while — like the inside out and backward kind of upside down. I was postpartum, going through aggressive treatment to fight the cancer with a newborn who had colic and liked to be held — a lot. Let me be clear with some of my own science…that shit doesn’t mesh.
It was certainly not how we envisioned starting our family — it was damn hard in the beginning. Not only did I have the full arsenal of side effects to deal with, there was guilt. Nobody prepared me for that, and there were days where it was worse than those side effects. I was bedridden, weak, always so tired. I wanted to be with my daughter and she clearly wanted me, but some days, it was literally impossible.
I knew I made the right choice. She was meant to be here, to be with our family — hell, as cliché as it sounds, she completed us. But as much as all that was true, I felt like I was failing her. I was failing Liam. I wasn’t used to being so sedentary, so dependent, and so…miserable.
As much as it felt like a sentence, it was also my motivation. I dug deep, found strength I didn’t know I possessed, and fought my damnedest. She deserved the best of me, and this was the worst of me. After all we went through to have her, all the sacrifices we made, the gamble we rolled…I wasn’t giving up. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. And it paid off.
I swear I spent a year in b
ed, and if I never have to drink a cup of broth again, it’ll be too soon. But I didn’t complain. It was all worth it because those odds the doctors tossed my way — you know, the facts — I beat them all — every last one. I had my life back, albeit a new life, and I wasn’t looking back. The past was right where it belonged, and I had my eyes on the prize. My family. My miracle. My daughter.
Remission is a beautiful word and I danced in its glory to the point my husband nearly had a heart attack. It took a while, but he finally came around and didn’t panic every time I sneezed. Our life was back on track. We were back to that fairytale. We were living the dream.
We beat the odds and didn’t take a single moment for granted. We lived every day, every minute, second by second. We were the luckiest people in the world.
It was one of those blessings again — but I forgot my blessings always came with a price.
- 2 -
3 years later…
In the blink of an eye…we had a three-year-old. A busy, full of energy, independent, fiery redhead of a three-year-old. We had found our new normal and ran with it after that magic word remission. Life was good. It was more than good.
Liam and his brothers’ small start-up didn’t stay small for long. They were good at what they did — the best. In a short window of time, they became a highly sought after, high-end security firm. Their client list spanned from Hollywood to Washington DC and across international waters. I wasn’t surprised.
More and more, I found myself tending to the toddler solo while Liam was away on a job — some were daunting rescue missions. I spent many days and nights on the edge of my seat, waiting for his return. He always did.
We had been so fortunate to get a second chance at life together and we didn’t waste a minute. Well, except those days and nights spent on edge waiting for him to come home safe and sound. I knew how this worked — the blessings and the not blessings thing. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop and reveal the price for getting my second run at this life thing. What I hadn’t realized is the shoe had already dropped and there was no picking it back up this time.