by J. L. Beck
Copyright © 2020 by Beck & Hallman LLC
Cover Design: Black Widow Designs
Editor Kelly Allenby
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Prologue
1. Lex
2. Jude
3. Lex
4. Jude
5. Lex
6. Jude
7. Lex
8. Jude
9. Lex
10. Jude
11. Lex
12. Jude
13. Lex
14. Jude
15. Lex
16. Jude
17. Lex
18. Jude
19. Lex
20. Jude
21. Lex
22. Jude
23. Lex
24. Jude
25. Lex
26. Jude
27. Lex
Epilogue
About the Authors
Also by the Authors
Preview of Cruel Obsession
Prologue
Before The Promise
JUDE
My feet hit the grass-covered ground below my window, and I start on a dead run. I don’t think anyone heard me sneak out, but I’m not taking any chances. I can’t, won’t get caught, this might be my only chance to do this. My only chance to escape my father’s clutches. I have one single night of freedom, a few stolen hours away from a jail sentence I’ll have to endure my entire life. Tonight is for me. It’s my one saving grace.
Without turning to look back, I run nonstop until I make it to the bus station. My lungs burn, and my legs ache from the sprint, but I know it’s all going to be worth it. When I get to the station, a bus is just about to leave. Getting in, I don’t even bother looking where it will be going. I just need it to take me away.
Digging through my pocket, I get out the small stash of cash I’ve saved up. I pay the fare and find a seat toward the back of the bus. A woman about my age is sitting on the other side of the aisle, and curiosity gets the better of me.
“Excuse me,” I say, getting her attention. “Where is this bus going?”
She looks up from her phone just long enough to answer. “North Woods.”
“Thanks,” I murmur and settle down in my seat. North Woods, here I come.
Two hours later, the bus pulls into the North Woods bus station. I step out in awe. It’s dark now, but there are still people out and about.
Looking around, I try to orient myself, but I have no idea where I’m going. So I decide to follow the others that got off the bus. Most of them are walking in the same direction, so I assume they must be going somewhere.
It only takes me a few minutes to realize where everyone is headed. After a short walk, a large building comes into view. No, not just one building, a whole campus.
I stop in front of the large sign decorating the pristine lawn. North Woods University.
Standing there for a few minutes, I think about how good it is that fate brought me here. I’ve always dreamed about going to college, but my father wouldn’t allow it. “Women don’t need an education, they need to marry, cook, clean, and bear children.”
That might be the life my family wants for me, but I will not have it. If I run away, they will never stop looking for me, but if I do something else… something drastic enough… they will shun me. They will kick me out and disown me as a daughter. Which is exactly what I want.
“Let’s go bar hopping!” A guy screams behind me, dragging me from my thoughts. His friends yell in agreement as the whole group walks across the street.
Keeping my distance, I follow them to wherever these bars are. That’s exactly what I need. The guys ahead of me walk so fast that I end up losing them, so I just keep walking in the same direction until I come up to a bar.
Loud music and laughter filters through the closed door and tinted windows. A sliver of doubt runs through me as I reach out for the door handle, but then I remember my father’s words, and the decision is clear again.
I open the door. The noises go up from a one to a ten. The music is so loud I can feel the pressure in my eardrum. The air is thick with the smell of alcohol, sweat, and cigarette smoke. I force my feet to carry me inside, regardless.
My heart is beating furiously against my rib cage as fear weasels its way up my spine. Taking in the people inside the place. I quickly realize that most of them are men… older men. In their late twenties and thirties. Definitely not the college crowd I was hoping for.
This was a bad idea. Maybe I should go to a restaurant instead. Spinning around, I head back to the door I just came through. Before I can take a single step, a large man cuts off the way, wedging himself between me and the exit.
“Hey gorgeous, why’re you leaving so soon?” he slurs, his eyes glassy and unfocused. He looks down at my body, and I suddenly feel exposed and vulnerable.
“Sorry, I just want to go,” I say, doing my best not to sound too desperate. I try to step past him, but he grabs my arm and pulls me closer to him, ignoring my obvious disinterest.
“Come on, I’ll buy you a drink.”
I’m already shaking my head, but he is still not getting it. He keeps pulling me in his direction, his fingers digging into the tender skin on my arm. I look around, hoping someone will come to my aid, but the other patrons are too busy with themselves. No one is even paying attention. Panic gets a hold of me, like claws ripping into my flesh.
Just when I’m about to scream on top of my lungs, the hand disappears, and the man is shoved away from me. Out of nowhere, a second man appears next to me.
“I don’t think she wants to go with you, asshole,” my savior growls. The creep stumbles backward but recovers quickly. I’m positive a fight is going to break out, but to my surprise, my attacker takes one look at the man beside me and shakes his head. With his tail tucked between his legs, he walks away, not taking another glance at me.
I turn to the man who saved me. As I take him in more closely, I realize why the other man backed off so easily. This man is nearly twice my size and probably twice my age as well. He is tall, over six feet for sure. His body is toned and muscular. His chest puffed out, and his arms thicker than my thighs.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” His voice is gentle and kind, the complete opposite of what he looks like. I decide then that he’s an enigma.
Almost as if in a trance, I keep looking at him, studying his green eyes like they hold all the answers.
“Jude,” I tell him. “My name is Jude.”
LEX
Jude. Her name rolls off my tongue with a smoothness I didn’t expect. Her blue eyes are so big and wide, similar to that of a frightened kitten. Her hair is long and blonde but with a touch of white mixed in. It appears soft, and I’m tempted to reach out and touch it, but God knows that would be fucking weird. I drink in her tiny frame. She’s young, probably too young to be in a bar. She is also a whole head shorter than me, and lean, frail.
She looks nothing like the women I’ve seen before, and that instantly has me intrigued by her. She’s wearing a very long denim skirt that goes down to her ankles with a white turtleneck looking shirt. I can hardly make out the curve of her hips through the material and especially not in the shit lighting. Her face, though, I can see perfectly clear. She is angelic with high cheekbones, a
nd a heart-shaped face. Her lips are a soft pink, and full, so full.
“Tha-thank you,” she murmurs as she peers up at me through her thick lashes. She’s watching me like she thinks I might do something to her. Innocent, naive, and fragile like a hundred-year-old glass. Those are the words that come to mind when I look at her.
I’m a better man than that, my dad raised me never to lay a hand on a woman, and my time in the Marines taught me that if you ever see someone in distress, you offer them a helping hand. And this girl was definitely in distress. That fucker wasn’t taking no for an answer, and I wasn’t going to stand there while a drunken creep manhandled her, and God knows, what else he had planned for her.
“My name is Alexander, but everyone calls me Lex,” I say like we’re two kindergarten students sharing first names.
“Lex.” Her eyes light up, and her gaze roams over my frame as if she’s assessing me.
Looking at her, I wonder if she’s homeless or running. She is without a blemish or smudge of dirt, I presume that doesn’t mean anything though. She can’t possibly be a student? My head starts to hurt as I think about it. I decide the best thing to do is ask her some questions and see what she says.
“Do you want a ride home?” I ask, hoping maybe that’ll answer at least one of my questions.
She shakes her head. “No, can you take me to your home?”
My home? I almost choke on my own spit. Maybe I didn’t hear her right. Why does she want to come home with me? I’m certainly not any less scary than the guy who was just after her. I’m huge, muscled, and flawed. Much older than her. Though I’m a lot less leering and creepy than the other guy. This strange need to protect her overtakes me. I could see the panic rising up in her when that asshole refused to let go of her. It’s why I stepped in, also because, like I said, I wasn’t going to stand by and watch the fucker hurt her.
“Uh, sure,” I tell her, assuming she has no home if she would much rather come back to my place with me. Maybe she needs a warm meal and a place to crash? I’ve been there before, and I’ve got the means to offer her help. It’s a strange situation, but I’m not going to send her out on her ass.
Wrapping her slender arms around her middle, all I can see is how fragile she is, her eyes darting around the room. She waits for me to make my move while I stand there, staring at her. Fuck. I’ve got to get out of my head.
Turning around, I pull out my wallet and toss a twenty on the bar top to cover my beers. When I turn back around, the girl is nowhere in sight, and for some reason, that makes my heart clench in my chest. Storming out of the bar, I’m met with the cool night air. I also find Jude standing there, right beneath a streetlamp.
“Ready to go?” I ask.
She nods her head, her teeth nibbling on her bottom lip. I know she’s not trying to be seductive. Something tells me she wouldn’t know the first thing about being sexy.
Starting down the sidewalk, I turn the corner, heading for the parking lot in the back. Jude’s soft footsteps bounce off the concrete behind me. I don’t like her being at my back, so I stop and wait until she is in line with my steps. I walk slower to keep us together, and when we get closer to my truck, I hit the unlock button on the key fob.
Like a spooked horse, Jude jumps in the air at the sound, bringing her hands to her chest. Her eyes dart around, looking for an attacker, I assume.
“It’s just the lock on my truck,” I assure her.
“I’m sorry,” she replies gently, the worry seeping from her gaze slowly.
Each step she takes seems to be measured with uneasiness, and yet she says nothing and continues into my truck. It’s the strangest thing I’ve ever seen. Do I ask her if she is okay? If something is going on? I shake those questions away, deciding to ask a much more pressing question,
“How old are you, Jude?”
“Twenty-One,” she answers without blinking an eye. Still, I have a hard time believing her. She doesn’t look underage, but she doesn’t look like she is old enough to drink either.
When we’re locked and loaded in my truck, I turn to her and ask, “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you home? It’s no problem.”
“No. I want to go with you.” A smile tugs at her lips, and I nod, deciding she’s made her choice.
When we arrive at my bungalow, I help her out of the truck, and we walk up the front steps. The place isn’t much, a simple one bedroom. When you live alone, it’s all you need.
Unlocking the door, I watch her out of the corner of my eye. She’s looking around, almost as if she’s taking everything in for the first time.
It’s painfully obvious that she’s sheltered, but I’m not going to pepper her with questions about her life. God knows, I fucking hate when people do that to me.
“You hungry?” I ask as soon as we step inside. It’s not awfully late, so I can still whip something up for her to eat, plus she looks like she could use a good home-cooked meal.
As always, I was at the bar, drinking a beer, trying to figure out what the hell to do with my life, so it’s not like the girl interrupted anything important.
“Sure,” she says, and walks a little deeper into the house. Her eyes fill with wonderment as they move over the walls.
I decide to leave her be for a bit and walk into the kitchen to determine what I’m going to make. Upon inspection, I realize two things. One, I need to go grocery shopping, and two, frozen pizza is the meal of choice. Hardly, the home-cooked meal I envisioned making her, I would not make a good husband or boyfriend right now. What the hell? Why am I thinking about that?
Popping a pizza into the oven, I walk back out into the living room to find her standing near the fireplace, her fingers pressed against a photo. She’s staring so intently, almost as if she’s living the moment in that photo. It’s one of my brothers and me. I can’t remember the exact location, but the joy on our faces tells me it was a time before life got a hold of us.
I allow myself to look her over once more since the lighting in the bar was so shitty. She’s pretty, gorgeous, even in the absurd clothing she wears. Her hips flare beneath the gaudy skirt, and though it’s hard to make out, I can see the perkiness of her breasts beneath her shirt. My cock hardens in my jeans, simply thinking about stripping her bare and tracing her soft skin.
Whoa, dude, chill the hell out.
As if she can sense I’m standing there watching her, she whirls around, dropping her hand as if she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t. Her creamy white cheeks flush pink with embarrassment.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched your things.” Her words are so soft, almost as if she doesn’t say them for me to hear.
“Don’t be sorry, you did nothing wrong,” I reassure her, running a hand through my hair. “I wanted to make you something, but as it turns out, I need to go shopping, so I popped a pizza in. I hope that’s okay?”
She nods but says nothing else. I’m not sure why I feel so drawn to her, but I decide to push my questioning thoughts away. Silence blankets us as she moves throughout the room, examining each item on my wall, the knick-knacks, and books on my shelves.
The timer dings in the kitchen, letting me know that the pizza is done, and I go to check on it. Finding that it’s bubbly and brown, I pull it out, turn off the oven, and get two waters from the fridge. Jude hesitantly steps into the kitchen as I’m slicing the pizza up.
She looks excitedly at the meal, and I almost laugh.
We eat in silence, a thousand and one questions swirling in my head. As I finish my food, I clean up the kitchen, giving my hands something to do. Jude takes small bites of her food, eating only one piece. I want to tell her to eat more, but consider how rude that might be.
She watches me, and when I get up and head into the living room, I find her hot on my heels, her movements tiny and hesitant.
Back in the living room, I whirl around, and she almost collides with me. A small gasp passing her lips. My hands reach out to steady her and an ele
ctrical current zings through me at the touch. I’m not sure where the hell my next sentence comes from, but I realize as soon as I say the words that I mean them. “I was thinking, if you don’t have a place to stay, you can stay here for a while. No charge at all. I just want to help you.”
She looks at me like I’m a flickering flame that might burn her if she gets too close. Tilting my head to the side, I stare down at her curiously. Wonderment, fear, and something else blooms in her big blue eyes. I drop my hands down to my sides, afraid that I might be the reason for her fear, but of course, she shocks me by pushing up onto her tiptoes.
Easing a little closer, there isn’t even an inch of space between our bodies, and yet I welcome the warmth of her body against mine. Her chest brushes mine, and when her small hands lift and come to rest on my shoulders, a strange heat creeps through me, making my heart beat a little faster in my chest.
Then like an unexpected gift, she shocks the hell out of me, she leans forward and presses her plump pink lips against mine, and the entire world falls away around me.
JUDE
I’m kissing him. I’m actually doing it. My heart thunders against my ribs, and I feel like I’m about to pass out. My lips move against his, and I wonder if he can tell how inexperienced I am? Am I even doing this right? Is he going to push me away any second? I try and think of how I can do this. I’ve never kissed a man before or even touched one.
Pulling away, I feel a heat forming between my thighs. My father always said that spot was sacred, meant for my future husband and no one else. The mere reminder of him has me pushing the fear of what I’m about to do away.
