Books in the series. Can be read as standalones, but chronologically run in this order. One Hot Summer Since You've Been Gone
I wanted to write a coming-of-age summer romance story. So… here it is. ????
⚠️ This story includes mature and challenging themes, including sexual content, discrimination, and violence.
A/N: This is an adaptation of my old fanfiction, 'Save Me,' if it seems familiar. I'm an amateur writer, and my books are free, so please excuse the occasional spelling or grammatical error. I enjoy comments, but please keep them respectful—there's a difference between constructive criticism and rudeness. Feel free to leave at any time, but I hope you stay to the end. ????
Also, some readers seem fixated on ages. Here's a breakdown: Jasper: 18 Thomas: 19 Molly: 25 Jim: 35
And some clarification on the character dynamic:
Jim and Molly are a couple (not married).
Molly and Thomas are siblings, but have different fathers.
Jim is Jasper's uncle.
***
Jasper stared out the car window as the city dissolved into rolling fields. He’d barely been driving for forty minutes, and already he missed it. The city lights, the traffic noise, even the smell of dirty streets.
He pulled his hoodie tighter around his head, resting his forehead against the cool glass. The shallow pop music on the radio felt sluggish, making him drowsy. He closed his eyes. Maybe, if he concentrated hard enough, this could all be a dream. A bad dream where he was forced to spend summer break on his uncle’s farm.
This was his mother’s last resort. The final chance for Jasper to get his act together. He was a year from graduation, and at the rate he was going, he wouldn’t make it to the finish line.
His mother was exhausted. Tired of being dragged into school for the endless fights Jasper started. He didn’t even seem to be picky. He’d fight his own reflection if it had been solid enough to hit.
“Jasper! Why? Why are you so angry all the time?” His mother would plead, but get nothing. A shrug, maybe. An outburst, fists slamming through plasterboard. Jasper often heard his mother cry herself to sleep, stressed and worried. It just made things worse, and the cycle would start all over again.
Jasper didn’t know why he was so enraged. Maybe it was his father leaving when he was six. Maybe it was his grandmother’s long, slow illness and constant hospital visits. Maybe it was that he couldn’t find anything meaningful in any girl he slept with. Jasper was a walking grenade, and too many times, someone had pulled the pin.
“Jasper!” His mother’s voice startled him awake. He sat up, twisting his neck to ease the stiffness. “We’re here.”
Jasper looked through the windshield. A solid stone farmhouse, painted white, came into view. The car struggled up a muddy, rocky track, shaking the image of the house.
A man emerged from the red gloss painted front door. He was built like a brick wall, thick arms visible in the rolled-up sleeves of his black and red checkered shirt. Old, dirty blue jeans led to muddy brown lace-up boots. Black hair brushed back from his forehead.
He watched the car approach, hands on his hips, a cheerful smile playing on his lips.
“Jasper, your uncle won’t tolerate your behavior. You understand?” His mother’s voice was harsh. She stared straight ahead. Jasper side-eyed her, a flicker of rebellion already sparking in his gut. He already knew no one would tell him what to do. No one would break him.
The car ground to a halt. Jasper and his mother stepped out. Jasper watched his mother embrace his uncle before the man beckoned him forward. He rested a large hand on Jasper’s shoulder, making him wobble slightly. “Hey lad. Ready to work for me this summer?”
Jasper didn’t know how to respond. Fake enthusiasm felt like a lie, but sarcasm felt… pointless. He settled for a mixture of both. “Yes, uncle.” He replied in a monotone, not even glancing up. He didn’t need to look to feel his mother’s burning glare.
“Relax, sis.” His uncle squeezed Jasper’s shoulder. “Jasper and I will get along fine.” Jasper felt obliged to look up. His uncle’s expression was unreadable. A warm smile, but eyes that held something else. Authority. Dominance. Jasper felt a strange urge to comply. “Yes, uncle.” He repeated the line, this time with more conviction. Maybe this man would be more of a challenge than he thought.
The grip released, and Jasper’s shoulders relaxed.
A second person emerged from the door. Petite, with long brown hair tied up in a messy bun. She wore blue dungarees. “Rosie, Jasper. Come in, I just baked a cake.” She disappeared inside, guiding Jasper in with a firm hand on his shoulder again.
“Molly’s cakes are the best, lad.” His uncle praised his partner’s cooking. They walked towards a long, rustic wooden table. Jasper shuffled along a bench, his uncle sitting beside him, his mother opposite. Molly pulled four plates from a shelf, placing them on the table, then brought a cake stand with a multi-layered chocolate cake. It was professionally decorated and looked delicious.
Jasper was intrigued by the way she looked at his uncle. They seemed deeply in love. He didn’t know Molly well, only that she was younger than his uncle by at least ten years. They seemed well-suited, though. Molly wasn’t a typical “farmer’s wife.” She had a tomboyish edge that Jasper found surprisingly refreshing.
A chocolate wedge was pushed onto his plate. “Enjoy.” Molly smiled. Jasper couldn’t help but return it.
“Thank you.” He replied, nodding slightly before staring at the cake. He wouldn’t admit it, but maybe staying here wouldn’t be so bad after all.