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Shadows of Jane

Page 18

by Amy Hale


  She blinked slowly and then smiled up at him. “Colt.”

  “I’m here, beautiful.”

  She reached up and touched his face. “I thought you hated me.”

  He shook his head. “Never. I could never hate you. I was just angry. I didn’t mean anything I said, Jane.”

  She closed her eyes. “It’s okay.”

  He pulled her closer. “No, it’s not okay. Do you hear me? It’s not okay. I need you, damn it. I need you. I love you, Jane.”

  Her smile was weak, but she did her best to let the love she felt for him push through her fingers as they continued to touch his face. He felt the sensation on his cheeks, and then it flowed through his body as she smiled at him. Once more, she had rendered him speechless.

  A single tear escaped, and gravity pulled it toward her ear. “I’ll always love you, Colt. Nothing could ever change that.” She closed her eyes again.

  He leaned down to kiss her. His lips touched hers, but she didn’t respond.

  He pulled back and examined her face. “Jane?”

  He gave her a gentle shake. “Jane! Jane!”

  She wasn’t responding.

  Dr. Weston rushed over. “I’ve called nine-one-one. An ambulance will be here as soon as possible.”

  Colt looked up, tears running down his face. “I don’t think she’s breathing, Doc!”

  Dr. Weston frowned and reached to touch her neck, looking for a pulse. When he couldn’t find one there, he tried her wrist. His face dropped.

  “No! She’s not dead! She can’t be! Save her, Doc! Save her now!” Colt was near hysterics.

  “Colt, I don’t think there’s anything I can do. You forget, she’s not like us.”

  Colt pulled her to him, rocking her in his arms. “No!” His tears turned to sobs. “Please, God, no! Not her! Take me, but leave her!”

  Dr. Weston touched Colt’s shoulder, but he was inconsolable. In the distance, sirens could be heard, growing to a deafening level as the ambulance approached.

  An EMT jumped out and surveyed the destruction around them. “What happened here?”

  Dr. Weston snapped his fingers at the young man. “This woman needs medical attention immediately!”

  Dr. Weston looked at Colt cradling Jane in his arms and jumped into action. He had to convince Colt to let the EMTs take her. “They have the equipment and supplies she needs. I don’t have any of those things with me, and to be honest, I fear I’m not steady enough to think straight. I’m too close to her Colt. They need to put her in the ambulance so they can help her.”

  Colt reluctantly let them load her into the ambulance, and he watched as they took her vitals. The grim look on their faces sent Colt into another fit of rage.

  Dr. Weston had to step in between Colt and the ambulance, placing a hand on his chest. “Let them do their job, Colt. If she can be helped, her best chance is with them.”

  Colt screamed at Jane then, “You can’t leave me again! You promised, it’d be okay!”

  The EMTs looked at him in alarm and then at each other before slamming the doors. They raced away with Jane’s lifeless body, and Colt fell to his knees in the middle of the dirt road. He stared at the vehicle until it turned onto the highway, disappearing from his sight.

  A few days later, Dr. Weston was making his rounds when he spotted Colt asleep in a chair in the waiting room. He walked over and sat down. “Colt, wake up, son.”

  “Huh? What? I’m up.” Colt scrubbed his face with his hands, trying to force his expression to cooperate with his poorly told lie.

  Dr. Weston frowned. “You really look like crap, boy. You should be sleeping at home.”

  “No, I’m good. I just dozed off.”

  A sigh escaped Dr. Weston’s lips. “You won’t change anything by being here all the time.”

  “I know. But when she wakes up, I want to be the first thing she sees.”

  Dr. Weston shook his head. “If she wakes up, Colt. We simply don’t know at this point.”

  Colt shook his head in denial. “No. She’ll wake up. She just needs time to heal.” His eyes rose to meet Dr. Weston’s. “I have to believe it, Doc. I refuse to believe anything else.”

  The older man nodded. “Okay.” He looked down at the chart in his hands. “I wanted to let you know that they’re done with the scan, so you can go back in if you like.”

  Colt nodded and rose from his chair. He patted Dr. Weston on the back as he passed.

  His thoughts reeled as he made his way down the familiar corridor. When he reached Jane’s room, he fought the urge to knock. His mind rushed back to the first time he’d visited her here and how she’d answered his knock with the most mesmerizing voice he’d ever heard.

  He pushed through the door and gazed at her comatose form. Intrusive wires, tubes, and machines surrounded her. He wanted to shake her and force her to wake up, but he knew that would do no good. Jane only did things on her timeline.

  He leaned over her and tenderly kissed her forehead. Then, he settled down in the chair next to her bed and picked up a book. He’d been reading out loud to her every day. It was an erotic spoof he’d found at the local thrift store.

  He smiled at her. “You really need to wake up, beautiful. We’re just getting to the good part, and you don’t want to miss it.”

  Jane didn’t stir or respond.

  Colt listened to the beeping of the monitor in the background for a moment. Then, he opened the book to the bookmarked page and began to read.

  Later that evening, Colt was awakened by an odd whirring sound coming from the hallway. He sat up and stretched, taking a moment to realize where he was. The lights were dim, and the chair he’d been in for most of the day was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

  He stood and stretched again, recognizing the familiar sound of the janitor waxing the floor. He gazed down at Jane. She still looked the same.

  Colt brushed a stray hair from her face. “I’m starting to lose hope, sweetheart. I need a sign, something to show me that you’re still with me.” He took her hand in his. “I’ll wait forever if that’s what it takes, but I just need to know you haven’t moved on without me.”

  He kissed the back of her hand and then gently placed it on her stomach.

  Entering the bathroom, he turned on the faucet and washed his face. As he stared at his haggard appearance in the mirror, he tried to give himself a pep talk. “You gotta hang in there for her. Don’t give up yet.”

  He turned off the light and stepped back into the room. When he turned, something soft flew by his head and hit the door. Frowning, he bent down and picked up the small teddy bear he’d purchased in the gift shop a few days ago.

  He turned again to see yet another small stuffed animal being hurled at his head. He caught this one—a white rabbit that had been sent by Dr. Weston.

  “You know, if you’re gonna read me dirty books, at least have the decency to pick one that isn’t a parody. The Humping Games? Really, Colt?”

  He rushed to her bedside and smiled as she looked up at him. Her eyes were bright and vivid. He nearly launched himself at her as he hugged her. When he lifted his head, the relief was obvious on his face.

  Colt pointed to the book. “That’s quality entertainment! I’m enjoying it!” His smile faded. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  Jane’s voice softened as she said, “I’m sorry, Colt. I guess I just needed time to heal.”

  He smiled broadly once again. “That’s what I told, Doc, but he was less sure. He doesn’t know you like I do.”

  She grinned and motioned for him to come closer. He leaned down, and she placed a gentle kiss on his lips. When he pulled back, she saw a trace of tears.

  He cradled her face in his hands. “I didn’t know how I was going to go on without you.”

  She touched his hand and closed her eyes. “Thankfully, you don’t have to.”

  He kissed her again, but they were interrupted by a nurse.

  She gasped at the sight of Jan
e sitting up in bed. “Oh, dear!” She excitedly ran out the door, calling for Dr. Weston.

  Colt and Jane laughed as they heard her shouts echoing down the halls.

  Jane looked up at him again. “Did you bring any cards with you?”

  He looked confused. “Cards? No. Why?”

  “I do believe, the last time we were here, you promised to teach me strip poker.”

  He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “You get better, and I’ll not only teach you, but I’ll also let you win.”

  She laughed again and reached for his hands. Her face turned serious. “Colt? What about the others? Did anyone save them?”

  He frowned. “The police went back to the compound, but it was empty. It appears that hateful woman, and whoever is left to follow her, skipped town and took your friends with them.”

  Her disappointment was obvious. “I have to find them, Colt. I have to help them.” She looked at their entwined fingers. “I remember it all, and I can’t allow that organization to continue to hurt innocent people”

  “Don’t worry, Jane. We’ll find them.” He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

  Jane prayed Colt was right.

  COMING SOON!

  SHADOWS OF DECEPTION

  (THE SHADOWS TRILOGY, BOOK TWO)

  MARCH 2016

  BY AMY HALE

  I RUN FROM SHADOWS.

  THEY CALL MY NAME AND TAUNT ME WITH THEIR CRIES.

  I SEARCH FOR TRUTH, WITHIN AND WITHOUT,

  YET I SEE NOTHING BUT LIES.

  NEW FACES SURROUND AND INVITE ME IN,

  BUT IS MY TRUST IN VAIN?

  CONFUSION FOLLOWS ME WHEREVER I GO,

  AND I OFTEN FEEL INSANE.

  WHY IS LIFE SO COMPLICATED?

  AND WHERE DOES ONE BEGIN?

  WHEN ALL I KNOW IS UPSIDE DOWN,

  I FEAR I’LL NEVER WIN.

  ANGELS AND DEMONS ON EITHER SIDE,

  I KNOW NOT WHERE TO TURN.

  BUT THEN I HURT THE ONES I LOVE,

  MY SHAME AND ANGER BURN.

  FORGIVENESS FLOWS FREE, AND FEAR ABATES.

  I CLING TO HIS DEAR SOUL.

  FOR NOW, I RUN SO FAR AWAY,

  AND PRAY I FIND CONTROL.

  MY STEPS ARE HEAVY, AS IS MY HEART,

  THE PAIN, IT CALLS FOR DEATH.

  YET I FIND FRIENDS TO HELP ME UP.

  THEY HELP ME CATCH MY BREATH.

  ONCE MORE, I TRY TO SHINE THE LIGHT,

  TO MAKE THE SHADOWS FLEE.

  BUT SHADOWS COME IN MANY FORMS,

  THEY CLAIM TO COMFORT ME.

  NOW APPROACHES THE MOMENT I’VE WAITED FOR.

  MY STRUGGLES ARE NEARING AN END.

  YET TO TRUST THE ONE AND LEAVE THE OTHER,

  I’LL LOSE MORE THAN A FRIEND.

  DECEIT MADE PLAIN AND FOES EXPOSED,

  I STRUGGLE WITH HER FACE.

  MY RAGE IS LOOSED,

  AND THOSE WHO’VE WRONGED US WILL BE PUT IN THEIR PLACE.

  NO LONGER DO I RUN FROM SHADOWS. WHEN THEY CALL HER NAME,

  I SCREAM BACK, “I AM JANE!”

  I am eternally grateful to all those who have encouraged me during the process of this book. I could never have finished this without the support and help of so many people.

  As always, my husband and children are my rock. John, you continued to push me to believe in myself, even when I struggled with so much doubt. You will never know how much that means to me. Matt and Rachel, thanks for your understanding and patience when I felt like I was losing my mind and for all the cool music recommendations. Rachel, thanks for helping me figure out my playlist as I worked through this manuscript.

  Again, I thank my parents and siblings for promoting and cheering me on. You all are the best and I love you dearly! My mother was a huge inspiration while writing this story and I regret that she never got to see it finished, but I know she was proud of me and what I’m trying to accomplish. I’ve never seen anyone face cancer with the courage and composure displayed by my dear mamma. I hope to be like her when I grow up.

  Many thanks to my beta readers—Lana, Jan, Tania, Paula, Ailsa, Kari, Jess, Becky, Anne, and Amber. You gals really helped me keep it together! A big thanks also goes out to Ailsa and Trish for helping me proofread. I couldn’t have done this without any of you amazing ladies!

  Special thanks to Anne Hartory for her expertise as I worked through Jane’s medical issues and healing. Jane isn’t your average patient so I had to twist reality a bit, but Anne kept me as close as possible! I couldn’t have done this without you sweet lady!

  I certainly can’t forget Jovana Shirley and her fantastic editing and gorgeous formatting! Thanks for making me look good!

  Sarah Hanson, thanks for the amazing cover! Your talent and vision inspire me!

  I owe a special thanks to my Red Coat PR family and my author friends, A.L. Woods and Sarah J. Pepper. I can’t begin to express my gratitude for your help and encouragement!

  Last but not least, thank you, dear readers. Without you, I’d be lost. Because of you, I’ve been able to breathe life into a dream that I feared would never come true. I might write the stories, but you are the wonderful people who really make the magic happen. My eternal thanks for your continued support!

  Amy Hale is an Oklahoma native now living in Illinois. Her husband and two children are the center of her universe even though her cat believes otherwise. She’s been writing stories and poems since childhood, providing an outlet for her active imagination. She loves music, reading, writing, and photography. Amy believes that happiness comes from surrounding yourself with people you love, helping others, and being content with your current place in the world.

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  YOU CAN FIND AMY IN THE FOLLOWING PLACES:

  WEBSITE: WWW.AUTHORAMYHALE.COM

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  TWITTER: @AUTHORAMYHALE

  NOVEL SAMPLE OF SNOW WHITE LIES BY SARAH J. PEPPER

  FOR MORE INFORMATION ABOUT SARAH’S AMAZING WORK, CHECK OUT HER WEBSITE: WWW.SARAHJPEPPER.COM

  “Evil poisons everyone. Period. Our mouths water when we sink our teeth into what we have always craved. Surrendering to our desires by biting off a delectable piece of the forbidden fruit is nothing more than a meager confession: Poison tastes sinfully sweet,”—Confessions of the Big Apple Debutante, by blogger Miss Snow White.

  PROLOGUE

  {New York City, Imminent Future in the 21st Century}

  {Alias: Snow White}

  The provocative scent of the once unnamed vigilante lingered on my chiffon curtains. Motorcycle exhaust mixed with his signature cologne. Other than his aphrodisiac essence, there was no other indication that he’d been inside my penthouse tonight. Even so, I knew he’d been here all night to protect me from the Seven, a demonic mob that claimed New York City for their Queen.

  Drawing back the curtains, I gazed through the balcony windows that overlooked the Big Apple. The city was particularly enchanting when the sun cast vibrant hues over the brilliant architecture built by our forefathers—unremarkable commoners who’d been long forgotten by all but one. The Huntsman bore witness to the rise and fall of nations, oversaw queens and kings come to power, and had washed more blood off his hands than any wartime criminal. Yet, he was never mentioned in textbooks, on the news, or God forbid, the tabloids. He might as well have been a ghost for he’d claimed no name for nearly two centuries. The Huntsman was the most unrenowned person alive; yet, he pestered my every waking thought.

  The natural beauty of the skyline almost overshadowed the fact that the city was diseased with black magic: alchemy of Seventh degree. Nevertheless, a debutante such as myself, could pretend the necromantic sickness enslaving the city did not exist. The fashion, propaganda, high-end lifestyle, limelight, and little white lies were enough to ignore the evil festering in the city below. Furthermore, half of the city paid dues to White In
dustries. My Enterprise. My credit cards had no balance limit because of the good fortune this city had provided me.

  However, I knew that the Huntsman saw a different scene gazing upon the greatest city on Earth. It was a city that came with power; a city that thrived off of the almighty dollar; a city that brewed with dark magic. It was the city to which he had been condemned to so long ago by the Queen who swore no allegiance to the Americans.

  If I closed my eyes, I could picture him leaning against the bronzed casing of the window beside me. I envisioned him looking down at the citizens with a vengeful jealousy. They lived the lives they wanted. He did not.

  Yet, he had come for me on his own accord.

  That he was in my penthouse tonight was not to be mistaken with his newfound freedom. No, it wasn’t a simple coincidence that what he was ordered to do and what he so desperately sought were one and the same.

  Me.

  I let out a gasp upon catching sight of him. Blanketed by shadows, he watched me from outside on the balcony. His frozen breath lingered in with the industries’ smoke that capped the sky. By all means, he could hide in plain sight, even though his robust stature suggested otherwise. I eyed his leather jacket and wished that I clung to his body instead of it.

  Hunger had long since manifested in his light blue eyes when he gazed at me. I’d promised to slip into something more comfortable the next time we met, but nothing in my closet justified tonight’s significance. Hence, cherry lipstick and pair of black Burberry heels had to do.

  The mix of lust and the forbidden four-letter word built between us until I could no longer stand it. I stepped out from behind the softness of the curtains and pushed open the oversized door. The harshness of the bitter cold air pricked my skin, but the temperature was miniscule to the effect he had on me.

  My choice of attire, or lack thereof, was met with unhinged approval in his eyes. His gaze dropped. His body tensed. He was at war with himself; he was in battle with me. My arsenal was in the form of lipstick, and his were clenched tightly in his hands. One gripped a black powder gun, circa the Revolutionary War. The other clutched a bright red apple. Fate brought us together, but it would be his choice to comply with the evilness that forced us against each other.

 

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