Never Let You Go

Never Let You Go

by Chevy Stevens

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"Stevens's taut writing and chilling depiction of love twisted beyond recognition make this a compelling read." —Publishers Weekly, Starred Review

"Disturbing, suspenseful, and just a little nerve-wracking." —Library Journal

Eleven years ago, Lindsey Nash escaped into the night with her young daughter and left an abusive relationship. Her ex-husband, Andrew, was sent to jail and Lindsey started over with a new life.

Now, Lindsey is older and wiser, with her own business and a teenage daughter who needs her more than ever. When Andrew is finally released from prison, Lindsey believes she has cut all ties and left the past behind her. But she gets the sense that someone is watching her, tracking her every move. Her new boyfriend is threatened. Her home is invaded, and her daughter is shadowed. Lindsey is convinced it’s her ex-husband, even though he claims he’s a different person. But has he really changed? Is the one who wants her dead closer to home than she thought?

With Never Let You Go, Chevy Stevens delivers a chilling, twisting thriller that crackles with suspense as it explores the darkest heart of love and obsession.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781504720113
Publisher: Blackstone Audio, Inc.
Publication date: 03/14/2017
Edition description: Unabridged
Product dimensions: 5.30(w) x 7.50(h) x (d)

About the Author

CHEVY STEVENS grew up on a ranch on Vancouver Island and still lives on the island with her husband and daughter. When she's not working on her next book, she's camping and canoeing with her family in the local mountains. Her debut novel, Still Missing, won the International Thriller Writers Award for Best First Novel.

Read an Excerpt

Never Let You Go

By Chevy Stevens

St. Martin's Press

Copyright © 2017 Chevy Stevens Holdings, Ltd.
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-250-03457-1



November 2005

I didn't have long. He was waiting at the beach — and he'd be counting every minute. I splashed cold water on my face, let the rivulets run down my neck and onto my shirt. I stared into the mirror. Tried to remember how to arrange my lips so I didn't look so scared, softened the muscles around my eyes, rubbed at the smeared mascara. It didn't matter how many ways I told him I hadn't been flirting with that man, I might as well have been shouting into the ocean.

The concrete floor of the bathroom was covered with sand and bits of paper that stuck to my flip-flops. Beside me a little girl struggled with her tap. I reached over and turned it on for her, then moved to the side, avoiding the curious look from her mother as she exited a stall.

They walked out hand in hand, the little girl chatting about Santa — would he find them at the resort? Christmas was a month away. I thought of Sophie with a sharp ache in my chest. Each day she added something new to her list. I had one thing on my wish list, just one.

This vacation was supposed to be an early Christmas gift from Andrew, but that was an excuse. He knew he'd gone too far last time. I came up with reasons we couldn't go to Mexico, but he'd overridden every one and booked a room at the resort where we stayed on our honeymoon. Our suite was even bigger this time, the view panoramic. As though white sand and sparkling turquoise water could make up for everything.

I had been careful to wear the pink one-piece when we went down to the beach that morning, layered with my tunic cover-up, the one with the high neckline and hem almost to my knees. Then I put on my straw hat and large sunglasses. As we left the room, he smiled his approval, drew me close for a kiss. I tensed, but I couldn't smell any alcohol on his breath or taste it on his lips. I wanted to pull away, but he had to end the kiss first.

We set up on the beach under one of the grass umbrellas for the next couple of hours as Sophie played in the sand. Andrew's hand held mine across our chairs, his thumb stroking lazy circles. A woman walked past and I caught her giving Andrew an admiring look. He was handsome in his white shorts, his stomach muscles clearly defined, his skin bronzed after only a few days in the sun, but none of this had any effect on me anymore. I was careful not to look around, but I imagined how we must seem to others. Just another happy couple with their child.

I pretended to doze, but I was watching Sophie behind my glasses. She was building an elaborate sand castle with turrets and a moat, and using a stick to draw designs in the side, where she carefully placed shells. She'd be seven in January, was already leaving the little girl behind, her limbs thinning out, her pale blond hair darkening to rich honey like her father's.

She picked up her pail and walked back to us. "I'm hungry, Mommy."

We flagged down the waiter, who'd been bringing Andrew Coronas all morning. "Una cerveza, por favor," Andrew would say, while I sipped on a lime margarita, and tried to ignore the growing knot in my stomach. We put in our order, chicken salad for me, burger and fries for them. Our waiter was handsome, with black hair and eyes, white teeth that flashed in quick smiles, and a cheeky expression. I avoided looking at him, but then I made the mistake. When I passed him my empty glass, his fingers lingered a moment against mine. It was an accident. He'd been distracted by some noise behind us, but I knew it wouldn't matter. Our hands had touched.

The waiter set down a fresh margarita in front of me and walked away. Andrew was wearing sunglasses, but I could still see his angry expression, the pinched look around his mouth, and my thoughts careened and slid around, trying to find purchase. I had to distract him.

I motioned to the beach, the palm trees. "The scenery is gorgeous."

"Yes, you looked like you were appreciating it."

"It's so relaxing." I molded my face into a pleasant smile. As if I didn't know what he was getting at. As if we hadn't been down this road so many times before.

Sophie, perched on the end of my beach chair with her towel wrapped around her waist, was watching our faces, her green eyes worried. She twirled a strand of wet hair around her finger. Ever since she was a baby, she'd twirl her hair when she was tired or anxious.

"Why don't you go collect more shells, sweetie?" I said. "They look beautiful on the turrets. I'll wave when lunch gets here." She got up, grabbed her blow-up dolphin, and walked back to the beach but looked over her shoulder at me a couple of times. I kept smiling.

"You must think I'm stupid," Andrew said when she was out of earshot.

"Of course not."

He focused back on his book, turning each page with a jerk. My breath was fast and tight in my throat. I took a sip of my drink, but the lime was no longer refreshing, the acid curling in my stomach. I rubbed at my breastbone, but it didn't ease the pressure.

Our meals arrived and the waiter asked if he could get us anything else, but Andrew wasn't speaking to him and I was forced to answer for both of us while Andrew stared at me. I could feel his rage from across the chairs, hear the rant he was rehearsing.

Sophie was now making her way back. I leaned closer to Andrew. "Please don't do this. Please don't turn this into something. He touched my hand by accident."

"I saw the way you looked at him, Lindsey."

"No, you didn't." This was when I should've been reassuring him, telling him he was my one and only, but the margarita had made me brave. It made me stupid.

"You're imagining things," I said.

It was as though his entire face broke apart and then rearranged itself into someone else. The real Andrew. The man no one saw except me.

Sophie ran up to us, sat beside me on the beach chair. Her skin was cold and wet against mine. She reached for a french fry. "Did you see all my shells, Mommy?"

"Yes, baby." I glanced at her castle. "They're perfect."

Andrew dumped ketchup onto his plate, smeared a french fry around. "Eat your lunch, darling."

"I just need to go and wash my hands." I could feel Andrew watching me all the way to the restrooms. I kept my head down and didn't look at anyone.

* * *

I threw my paper towel into the garbage, slid my sunglasses on. I had to get back to the beach. Sophie would want to swim again and I didn't want Andrew to let her when she'd just eaten. I thought of the Coronas he'd had. How many? I didn't even know. I used to keep count.

They weren't on the beach chairs. My salad was still on the side table, the lettuce wilting in the heat. My drink was empty. Andrew's burger and fries were gone, Sophie's half eaten. I looked around. They weren't at her sand castle. Maybe they went back to our room? I walked closer to Sophie's sand castle. Her towel was spread on the other side, her lime-green plastic sandals kicked off.

Her dolphin float was missing.

I took a few steps into the water, my hand covering my eyes. The waves rose and fell, an undulating mass of blue. Swimmers bobbed up and down. I squinted, tried to focus on their faces. Where was she? Where was Andrew? I spun around and scanned the people on the beach, the throngs of resort guests, clusters of kids running and chasing waves. I turned back and gazed out over the water again, looking for Sophie's small head, her red bathing suit.

Then I saw her blow-up dolphin moving up and down in the waves — with no one on it. I walked through the water as fast as I could, the current tugging against my legs, my feet sinking into the soft sand. When I was in deeper water I swam hard strokes to the toy and latched on. They had to be out there. Sophie never let that dolphin out of her sight.

I couldn't see her bright pink snorkel, but there were so many people in the water. I thought again of the food she had eaten, the beers Andrew had drunk. He was a strong swimmer, but Sophie was still learning, and tired easily. I plunged my head under the water.

I saw legs coming closer — masculine legs. I rose to the surface sucking in the air in big gasps. An older man a few feet away took his snorkel out of his mouth.

"You okay?" he yelled.

"I can't find my daughter!" More people were swimming over. What's she wearing? Did you see her go under? Someone get the lifeguard!

I was treading water, my torso supported by the dolphin. "I didn't see her go in. She's only six. She's wearing a red bathing suit." A speedboat roared past and fresh waves sent us all bobbing up and down, salt splashing in my face. The horizon appeared and disappeared.

Someone from the resort on a Jet Ski radioed in her description. People were diving down, then rising to the surface with wet hair and foggy goggles.

None of them found her. I kept sticking my head under the water, but all I saw now were pale thrashing legs that stirred up the sand and made the water murky. I popped back up, looked out over the breakwater. Could they have been swept out to sea?

One of the resort boats was circling outside the roped-off swimming area. The staff in their white shirts and orange shorts, binoculars pressed to their eyes, searched the horizon. I waited for a yell, something, but the beach had gone curiously silent. People stood at the shore.

I didn't know how long I'd been in the water. My teeth were chattering and I was frantic, confused by all the people speaking to me. I explained that she was with my husband, that he could be missing too. The lifeguard wanted me to return to shore, tugged at my arm until I finally went with him. We swam to the beach and I lurched onto the sand, still clutching the dolphin float. My cover-up was clinging to my skin, wrapping around my thighs. My legs gave out and I collapsed onto my knees. The sun beat down on me, blinded my eyes as I stared out at the water.

Beside me the lifeguard urged me to drink water from a plastic bottle, then talked into his radio, Spanish phrases I couldn't understand. Jet Skis searched the water.

I felt something, an awareness that made me turn my head and look down the beach. It was them, walking toward us. Sophie in her red bathing suit with the white polka dots that we'd picked out together. Andrew, his long muscular legs taking those familiar loping steps. They were clutching drinks. Sophie looked like she was wondering what all the fuss was about.

I jumped to my feet, sprinted to them, almost losing my balance in the soft sand, but I was unstoppable. I lifted Sophie into my arms. I was crying into her neck.

"Mom, what's wrong?"

"What's going on, Lindsey?"

The lifeguard came over. "Is this your daughter, senora?"

"Yes, yes!" I lowered her down, pressed my hands to the sides of her face, and kissed her cheeks, her lips, her suntan-lotion-scented nose, her hair that had dried into salty ropes.

Andrew was talking with the lifeguard. "I'm sorry my wife put you all through this. She has an overactive imagination." He smiled and made little circles by his head.

The lifeguard gave him a confused smile, dropped a hand onto my shoulder, and peered into my face. "Drink some more water, senora. The sun, it's very hot, sí?"

He left us alone. The crowd was dispersing, but I could feel their judgment, the whispers. I didn't care. I had Sophie. She was solid and real and standing in front of me.

"I was so scared," I told her. "I saw your dolphin in the water."

"Daddy and I were playing and it floated away. He said we could get it later."

Andrew was staring out at the water. I tried to read his expression but he was wearing sunglasses. How angry was he that I'd made a fuss?

"It just kept floating away," he said. "Thought we might never see it again." Then he grabbed Sophie's hand. "Come on. Let's get out of the sun."

* * *

We were sitting under the umbrella. I was still shaking, though the sun was aiming directly at us and I'd wrapped a towel around myself — I'd noticed Andrew glancing at my wet cover-up clinging to my breasts and thighs. Sophie was sitting near me, her hand in mine. She kept giving me little pats. "I'm okay, Mommy. I'm okay. I'm sorry you got scared."

Andrew was watching me. I could feel his gaze burning into the side of my face. I wanted to ignore him, but I knew he was trying to get me to look at him. I turned. There was a look in his eye, something mean. Something smug.

"That was embarrassing," he said.

"Why didn't you wait for me?"

"You were taking too long." He shrugged.

"You did it on purpose. You were trying to scare me."

"Don't be silly," he said, rising to his feet. "You did that to yourself." He held his hand out for Sophie. "Come on, sweetie. I'll help you build another sand castle."

I watched them walk away. Sophie looked over her shoulder at me, her little face concerned. I smiled reassuringly. The lifeguard came over. "Is everything okay now, senora?"

"Yes, yes, it's fine." I didn't want him to linger. He turned away and I saw something in his face. Pity? Or did he think I was just a stupid blond woman who overreacted? I remembered how I had thrashed around in the water, how desperate I'd felt. How had I become this way? How had I turned into this woman who couldn't go to the bathroom without being afraid?

Andrew was filling a pail with sand. Sophie and he had the same determined expression. He felt me watching, gave a small wave and a friendly smile.

You're imagining things. That's what I'd told him, and then he made me pay.

But he hadn't just wanted me to be scared. He wanted me to know he could take her from me. In the blink of an eye. One day I might be in the bathroom, or maybe I'd step outside for a moment, or go to the store, and they'd be gone. I would never see her again.

I had to leave him when we got home. There was no more time to plan. No matter what it took, no matter how risky it was, I had to get Sophie away from him.

I slowly lifted my hand, gave my palm a kiss, and blew it in his direction.


December 2016

The house is quiet when I wake, the floorboards cold under my feet as I push myself out of bed. "Sophie?" She doesn't answer. Sometimes she gets up early to work on a project, or goes for a walk. She likes to study the patterns in the snow and ice. It worries me when she goes off into the woods by herself, but she wears hiking boots and carries a whistle, and trying to keep her home when she's feeling inspired is like trying to capture lightning in a bottle.

Shivering, I wrap my flannel robe tight around my body and shuffle into the kitchen. Sophie's put a pod in the coffeemaker for me, left a note stuck to the machine.

Sorry, Mom. The snow was calling ... XO

My baby, the artist. I pin the note onto the bulletin board, on top of the others I've saved, then check that she's locked the door and reset the alarm. She's always forgetting, says we have nothing worth stealing anyway. I remind her that's not the point.

I let the shower run hot as I can stand it, steam filling the room, soap swirling around my feet and down the drain. My hair is long again and the wet tendrils lay flat against my breasts. My mind drifts as I think about my plan for the upcoming week, which clients might need more help before Christmas, whether I should place an ad for another cleaner. Maybe I can expand and take on some janitorial work next year when Sophie goes away to school. I enjoy this feeling of accomplishment. In the beginning it was just me, a beat-up car, and a box of cleaning supplies. Now I have four fulltime employees and nothing holding me back.

After I'm dressed, I unplug my phone from the charger and notice I've gotten a text from Marcus. You still want to skip this week? Let me know. Marcus teaches a self-defense class for my domestic violence support group and sometimes gives me private lessons.

I text him back. Yeah, just busy, but I'll see you at the meeting. I make a second cup of coffee — the first is for sanity, the second is pure pleasure — and prop my phone up against the bowl of fruit on our kitchen table. I sign in to Skype and wait for Jenny to answer my call.

She comes into view, her blond hair still messy from sleep, her face pale without makeup, but she has an ethereal kind of beauty that makes her look angelic — and much younger than her forty-five years. I always tell her that if she wasn't my best friend, I'd have to kill her.

"God," she says. "What a morning."


"Teen girls." She shakes her head. "Enough about that. What are you doing today?"

"I have one cleaning job. Then maybe some Christmas shopping."

"I thought Saturdays were your day off."


Excerpted from Never Let You Go by Chevy Stevens. Copyright © 2017 Chevy Stevens Holdings, Ltd.. Excerpted by permission of St. Martin's Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Never Let You Go 4.6 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 31 reviews.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Chevy Stevens always writes page turners. Prepare to stay up late reading any of her books, love them All! I can't wait until her next one. Martha Byrd
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
The ending was so dumb and it felt the author was running out of pages and had to quickly end the story. Disappointed...
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I thoroughly enjoyed this. It wasn’t as scary as I was hoping... but it had me hooked and entertained throughout.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Kept me in suspense until the end!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Could not put it down!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This was by far the author's best book ever!!
tommygrrl723 10 months ago
4.5 stars. Wow! I really liked this book. I had just completed Chris Bohjalian's book East of Eden when I chose to try this read. Like Bohjalian, Stevens tackles the tough subject of domestic abuse/violence. I really liked this author's take on the subject. The fear that the character 'felt' was palpable, and the suspense had me anxiously flipping through the pages. I took of 0.5 stars because it was a bit predictable, but still it was an enjoyable read.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This book kept me on my toes trying to figure out. Loved it
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I couldnt put it down! Wonderful and never expected the twists.
LEH0644 More than 1 year ago
Fleeing from an abusive husband, Lindsey Nash takes her daughter Sophie and runs. Andrew comes after her but is involved in an accident where a woman is killed. He is sent to prison for ten years. Now he is out and living in the same town as Lindsey and Sophie. Sophie admitted writing to him and says she wants to get to know her father. Things begin to occur that lead Lindsey to think Andrew has gotten inside their home. Police are unable to do anything until Andrew’s body is found. They think he fell down the stairs and his death ruled accidental. Lindsey turns to Marcus, a retired psychologist who volunteers at sessions for abused women. Someone is still getting inside her house as things are moved around and her computer is being accessed. If not Andrew, who? You will never go wrong when you pick up a book by Chevy Stevens. I have read many and they are all well written and keep your attention till the last page. Full of suspense.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Couldn't put it down. Highly recommended. Great book....!!!!!!!!!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Left me in suspense to the end
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Awesome read- so many twists and turns. It kept me reading more and more! Highly recommend
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Chevy Stevens books sucks you in and makes you lose sleep!!! I loved this book. Like all of her others, this is an edge of your seat read. RG
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Haziegaze More than 1 year ago
Having never read any of Chevy Stevens books before, I didn’t know what to expect but having read the description, I thought I would give it a go and I wasn’t disappointed. This is a fast paced, chilling read with twists that are well-thought out, well developed and believable. Domestic abuse is a difficult subject to write about sensitively and without sensationalism and Chevy does this very well whilst not losing any of the suspense, darkness and fear that comes with living in a very poisonous and controlling relationship. With great characters and a great story-line, I found this a highly addictive read from start to finish and I will definitely be checking out her other books. I want to thank the publisher (Little, Brown Book Group UK) and NetGalley for my copy in return for an honest review.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Is Never Let You Go the book for you? Lindsey Nash and her ex-husband Andrew were in a happy marriage with a young daughter, Sophie. Everyone thought this marriage was never going down...except Lindsey. Andrew started to drink heavily, Lindsey was being abused and harassed, she needed and wanted to get away with her daughter. One night she escaped and Andrew was sent to jail. After 11 years, Andrew got out of jail and Lindsey suspects her family and her are being followed and their every move are being monitored. Lindsey thought Andrew has changed after 11 years, but has he actually changed? Did Andrew come back to seek revenge? I extremely like this book. All of that mystery and suspense keeps me to the edge of mine seat eager to find out more. One major message/theme of this book is: do not trust someone with all of your secrets and life especially after having a past like Lindsey, they might turn back against you. The writing style was interested and fun to read; it was more sort of a diary/journal with Lindsey and Sophie trading off narration every couple of chapters. Every couple of chapters it flashes back to Lindsey’s past with Andrew and then back to the present. The character building was the highlight of this book. As the book progresses on more secrets about the characters get revealed and it’s exciting to found out. It’s a good book with many plot twists and surprises along the way. Readers who love surprises and mystery should absolutely read this book. Even though this book is a fiction novel, it feels like this could have been someone’s personal memoir. Anyone looking for an exciting, easy, intense, fun book to read, this is the book!!!
LC112648LC More than 1 year ago
Never Let You Go! It had my attention from page one throughout the whole book. Great author - she makes a book hard to put down no matter how busy your schedule is at that point in time. Highly recommend! Couldn't put it down! Looking forward to her next book for sure :)
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
lindyLW More than 1 year ago
I loved the book didn`t want to put it down
kathdoh More than 1 year ago
Book that is great from the very start and hard to put down. Highly recommend if you like suspense and mystery
toReadistoEscape More than 1 year ago
I received a copy of this book courtesy of NetGalley and Lake Union Publishing in exchange for an honest review. In my opinion this story had great potential but the author didn’t supports Lindsey’s actions well. I felt she took extreme measures and made a bad situation worse. There are some good twists and turns that I did not predict.
blackstrat More than 1 year ago
This is another excellent book written by Chevy Stevens. I could parrot the other reviews and give a synopsis of the book, but I won't. This is indeed, an excellent thriller, which Chevy is by now, well known for. One of the things you'll find in all her books, is you'll become invested in the characters pretty early in the story. If you are looking at this review and deciding whether or not to read it.... I would suggest this book to everyone. But I'll also go so far to say, read everything Chevy has to offer. Since, I first read Still Missing, I've told folks this is one book you have to read. So for those new to Chevy, by all means, read them all. I guarantee, you won't be disappointed you did!