Hey, this is my first fanfiction ever and admittedly not my best work so please please please don't kill me. It's got a horrible title and the beginning's slow but duh you do get a helping of Rose's Russian god in the first chapter (I love Dimitri, I just couldn't resist). You'll see all of the characters from vampire academy in some way, shape, and form (yes that means Jesse, Tasha, Adrian, Ralf, Tatiana, etc.) Also I'm a total D&R lover (3 Adrian but not for Rose). Everyone's human and they're on a ranch in Montana, and yes, they're going to be a little out of character :( sorry but as humans there is only so much we can do but essentially, yes, Christian is a pyro, Rose is a badass that can fight, Dimitri can fight, and Adrian is...Adrian. That's probably TMI, but I like to know so...there you go.
Also I own nothing, it's all Richelle Mead's.
Chapter 1: Red Creek Ranch
It was happening again.
My body suddenly became drenched in cold sweat as I looked around the large, decorated Grand Prix show jumping arena in England. The now-alien confidence welled up inside and flooded through me, chasing what remained of the butterflies in my stomach away. The massive jumps set up in front of me didn't scare me at all, because I trusted my horse, Serafina. We'd been together since her birth and trained together through nearly my entire childhood. I knew we could handle this. I was fearless.
At a quick canter, we sped towards the first jump, landing it perfectly as we did with the next three as well. Up ahead I could see the oxer coming. I moved into jumping position as she went to jump when I suddenly felt my stirrup leather snap. Clumsily, I slammed my weight forward landing heavily on her neck while the stirrup and stirrup leather flew back to hit her back leg. It happened quickly and simultaneously, not slowly like in the movies. As she landed, she fell forward, her fetlock moving into an unnatural angle with a sickening CRACK! while her whole body began to turn sideways. I screamed as her weight partially pinned me under, as she seemed to scream from pain.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
I sat straight up in my bed, panting heavily and moving the strands of dark hair off of my face. "It's over now," I whispered to myself, "you're not there anymore." I said, as pressed the snooze button on my alarm clock.
It had been almost three months since that disaster at our competition. However, it had been a long and difficult three months. Serafina, with little hope of her fetlock ever healing, had been put down in the same week as the accident. Me? I'd walked away with a badly broken leg, fractured arm, dislocated shoulder, and several cuts and bruises, but nothing serious. Three months since I'd ridden a horse. However, ever since I'd been pinned down underneath my struggle, terrified, injured horse, I couldn't bring myself to ride. The one time I'd tried, I'd nearly had a panic attack. I hadn't given, per se, because I never gave up, but I was taking a break. I still loved horses and milled around the barn observing lessons and doing chores, but actually getting on the back of a horse made my palms sweat and my stomach tense.
"Rose!" My father called from somewhere inside the house, and I sighed, looking around my bare room.
Today was the day. For two of those three months, I'd been hiding out with my father in Turkey instead of with my mother in the US. Turkey was…peaceful, a desert oasis far from my hectic home full of people who knew me. Away from my mother who couldn't be bothered with me. Away from the therapist who wanted to fix me. Away from the doctor who swore up and down I had Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Away from the people at my barn who looked at me with pity in their eyes. For those short two months, Turkey had been my home. I'd made a new family with the father I never knew, Ibrahim Mazur, and friends and employees. However, I needed to go home, because of everything I was not and did not do. I, Rosemarie Hathaway, was not a quitter and did not runaway.
"I'm up!" I called back before hopping out of bed and pulling on jeans, a tank top, and a sweatshirt before hurrying, barefoot, out of the room while hastily tying up my long dark hair. "Hey Baba, what's for breakfast?" I asked as I got into the kitchen, skipping over a 'good morning' and going straight for the coffee.
Abe barked out a laugh, his eyes on me as I moved around the kitchen. "Well good morning to you too, Rosemarie."
"What's for breakfast old man?" I questioned irritably, the hunger beginning to wear down my already limited patience.
"No time for breakfast if you want to make your flight." Abe replied with amusement while taking a bite out of his bagel right in front of me.
I narrowed my eyes at him angrily before moving quickly and commandeering the half of the bagel with an impish smile. Abe rolled his eyes but didn't say anything. I glanced at the clock and coughed. "Shit!" I said while Abe just chuckled again adjusting his colorful scarf. "Is it really that late?" I asked while Abe shrugged.
"Clearly you didn't hear the part of the alarm that went off nearly a half an hour ago that woke the rest of the house." Abe commented.
I just shrugged while tugging on a pair of Converse onto my feet. "Whatever, I was up late packing. And why didn't you wake me up?" I snapped at him.
"I don't have a death wish." He answered simply, getting to his feet. Placing his hand on the small of my back, Abe lead me outside to the car where his 'business partner', Pavel, sat behind the wheel waiting patiently. "You don't have to go, kiz." Abe said to me softly. I could see in his eyes that he truly wanted me to stay.
We'd had a rocky start to our relationship to say the least. Abe Mazur was a mobster in command of a secretive business that loved secrets, and I was a broken seventeen year old girl who'd just watched her world break down around her. I didn't like secrets and he didn't like attitude. Not to mention, I worked hard to keep from liking him since I felt he'd abandoned me by never making an effort to be a part of my life. However, miraculously, our similar snarky attitudes and plucky stick-to-it attitude had seemed to bring us together even though I'd made an effort not to get an effort and he had no idea how to relate to a broken teenage girl. I knew I'd miss him, and our pointless arguments, and the way that he seemed to know me so well since we were too alike for our own good.
Sighing, I looked him the eyes and responded to the offer to stay. "Yes, I do. It's time to stop running and face the music."
Abe gave me a teasing smirk. "You call working at a stable in rural Montana 'facing the music'?" He questioned.
I shrugged. "One step at a time, old man. We both know that I'm not ready to go plunging head first into the cutthroat competitive equestrian scene yet." I replied with a small smile. "I have to do this. I owe it to myself." I said.
"You'll be back for holidays?" Abe demanded.
Smiling, I nodded my head. "Of course, Baba,"
"Good," He nodded brusquely before pulling me into a tight hug. "Be a good girl, kiz."
"When am I not?" I joked while he rolled his eyes, his mind no doubt flashing over all the stunts I'd pulled while staying with him.
"Play nice with the other kids,"
"I always do," I replied sarcastically.
"And try to stay out anything illegal."
"I'll try." I answered honestly. "But I have your blood, so there's only so much we can do about that one." I teased him.
Abe rolled his eyes and kissed my forehead. "Keep up with your schoolwork. And make sure to call and write."
"Write?" I smirked. "What is this the 1800s? No one writes letters anymore, that's so archaic." I replied sarcastically.
"Text. Email. Skype. You know what I meant." Abe said.
"Anything else?" I questioned.
Abe shook his head and pulled me in for another hug. "Good luck, kiz."
"Thanks, Baba." I said.
~O~O~O~
It seemed like years later that my eyes took in the sights of Montana. I'd spent a lot of time here, growing up. Shuffled between a boarding school in the area and my mother's home in New York where she worked as a bodyguard for some senator named Szlesky. Whatever, I'd only met him once or twice but he seemed like a real douche, so I'd never made an effort to get a long with him. My mother wasn't much better. Janine Hathaway was about 5'2" with red hair, green eyes, and more muscle than a professional bodybuilder. She had a ridiculous Scottish obtained from her childhood in Glasgow with her eccentric parents. My mother was determined, strong, and never backed down. She was well-respected and well-known with two black belts and a kickass reputation, and I absolutely despised the woman. My best friend, Lissa, often said that 'despise' was too strong a word, but the fact remained the same: I didn't like her.
The dislike had stemmed from neglect that differed wildly from my father's abandonment, and her love of her career. Her career as a bodyguard took precedence in her life, and it had always bothered me that she'd put her job in front of her child. I didn't think it was unreasonable to want my mother to sometimes just stop being a bodyguard and spend a little time with me. By the time I'd reached age ten, I'd stopped wishing for her approval, preferring to just do whatever I wanted to. My therapist had often told me that my mother's neglect might have been what motivated my tumultuous past.
The only time my mother had ever paid any attention to me was when I got in trouble. That had often been once a week at least by the time I hit middle school. By the time I hit high school my therapist, Deirdre, had commented that my antics had become almost 'self-destructive'. I drank a lot, partied a lot, and dated more guys than I could really remember. My work ethic seemed almost nonexistent, and I constantly got kicked out of class for 'disruptive behavior' or in other words, my mouth. The only thing in my life that I'd ever cared about had been sports. I'd played soccer, basketball, softball, football, and volleyball until ninth grade. Throughout my whole life, my mother had pushed me into doing track and karate, both of which I enjoyed. However, the only sport that had brought me any kind of joy had been horseback riding which I'd started around second grade after my mother had sent me to a summer camp for the whole summer that offered horseback riding. Horseback riding had been what helped me get my life back together.
I'd started horseback riding at a small stable near my boarding school named Red Creek Ranch. Yep, the same ranch that I'd be going back to for the rest of the year to work. Some filthy rich politician named Tatiana and her family owned a whole bunch of ranches, Red Creek included, but Red Creek was run by Ellen Kirova who personally found me just as annoying as almost every adult did. Sighing, I snapped back to the present as the people around me got to their feet, grabbing their bags from the overhead compartments and making a beeline for the exit. I waited in my seat, knowing that if I tried to leave right now someone would push me to my breaking point. It was better if I just waited in my seat while rocking out to 3oh!3.
When the plane seemed almost empty save for elderly couples and the flight crew, I grabbed my duffle bag and hurried off of the plane and through the small airport. "Baggage claim. Baggage claim." I muttered to myself looking for any signs that I could find when I noticed a tall, gorgeous man with long brown hair tied back and a floor-length duster holding a sign with my name on it in messy scrawl. "What the hell?" I muttered walking over to him. "Who are you?" I asked the man, not bothering with introductions.
"Dimitri Belikov," he replied in a voice laced with a slight Russian accent. "I'm guessing you're Rosemarie Hathaway?"
"No," I began sarcastically. "I'm a random stranger who decided to come ask your name. "What do you think?" I snapped while he just shook his head. "And my name's Rose." I snapped while he just raised an eyebrow. "Why are you here?"
Dimitri turned and began walking while I sighed before hurrying to follow him through the airport. "Alberta sent me to pick you up." He replied before stopping so suddenly I almost ran into him. I looked around and noticed that we stood next to a luggage belt (is that what those things at the airport are called). I jolted at the name of my boss for the next few months of employment at the ranch and old friend/instructor. To say I'd missed the woman who'd been a surrogate mother to me while I'd tried at Red Creek would have been an understatement. She'd been all tough love, but at the same time, she'd never been shy about letting me know that she cared and she'd be there when and if I needed to talk.
"Why?" I asked as I scanned the passing bags for my suitcases. "I was just going to rent a truck."
"For the whole year?" Dimitri questioned.
I resisted the urge to snap at him again. Who the hell did this guy think he was? "I hadn't really though about it that far." I replied honestly.
Dimitri looked at me expressionlessly. "You probably should have thought about that." Dimitri remarked. The comment was neither snide nor biting but it still grated.
"Did I ask for your opinion?" I snapped at Dimitri who just shrugged. I gave him an exasperated look before I saw my bags pass by in my peripheral vision. "Shit," I said, reaching for the two bags just before two people got in my way. I rolled my eyes and moved around them to grab my bags only to see that Dimitri had already gotten them. "Thanks," I said softly while Dimitri just nodded before gesturing for me to follow him, keeping both of my suitcases as we walked out the doors to a beat-up pickup truck. We threw my bags into the truck bed before climbing into the truck and heading out.
My eyes focused immediately on the gorgeous Montana scenery that I'd missed while in both New York and Turkey. In the distance, I could see the Rocky Mountains that looked much closer than I knew they were in actuality. Forests, rivers, the gorgeous green landscapes held a peace and serenity that I had missed. Personally, I'd always been a mountains girl. Sure, beaches were great but the only good part was the ocean, which you couldn't get without the obnoxious people, rambunctious kids, and icky sand.
"Do you have to play this shit?" I questioned Dimitri disbelievingly as the country music playing over the radio finally made me reach my breaking point.
Dimitri quirked an eyebrow—I'd always wished I could do that—and looked at me sideways. "You don't like country music?"
"You do?" I inquired. "I may have lived here for a while, but I never really got into country music, it sucks."
Amusement flashed in Dimitri's eyes, and he looked like he was fighting the urge to smile at my words before he flipped the channel. When Doves Cry by Prince blared through the speakers, and I dropped my head into my hands with a groan. "Is this better?" Dimitri asked lightly, clearly knowing that I wouldn't like it.
"No," I replied.
Dimitri shrugged. "Driver controls the radio."
"Says who?" I asked outraged.
"The driver." Dimitri retorted teasingly while I just rolled my eyes. "Pick. It's this or the country music."
I thought about this, weighing the options of each music choice before sighing. "Just keep this shit on." I sighed before glancing at the smirking Russian. "I've never met a six foot Russian who wants to be a cowboy before." I said feigning excitement.
Dimitri rolled his eyes, "I don't want to be a cowboy."
"Really? You listen to country music, wear a duster, and work on a dude ranch in Montana."
"I wouldn't call it a dude ranch." Dimitri informed me.
"All you're missing is the hat." I continued as he turned onto the drive to Red Creek. "It's okay Comrade, we all have secret desires." I teased him as my eyes drank in the ranch that had once been my home. As the truck came to a stop, I grinned, hopped out of the truck, and took in everything. The barn, bunkhouses, and main house with the mountains behind, the huge fields full of everything from horses to cows with even a few buffalo here and there, and the corrals and arenas. I took a deep breath, taking it all in. The only thing going through my mind was, 'And now I've come full circle.'
So what do you think? Do I suck? Please review. I just want to know if I should continue. Thanks!