Holding Aces

by Nikki Groom

  Stupid girl.

  I should have stayed away.

  Now the last eighteen months have all been for nothing. I have achieved absolutely zero by being away other than a bigger mistrust and a deeper cavern in my heart made by the fact that I actually had hope and now it’s gone.

  He stands behind me, his index finger gently brushing my tousled hair from my bare back. The act makes me shiver. Not a shiver of pleasure that Denham gives me; no, a shiver of repulsion. A shiver that actually works its way down through my stomach and back up my spine. I think I’m going to throw up. I clamp my mouth tight shut and will the fear to go away. I will be strong. He will not break me again.

  But I know the power he has over me.

  The power to turn me to dust.

  “Did you really think I was going to let you go?” he says, his voice resonating a dangerous undertone. “Did you?” He moves closer still, but doesn’t touch me. “My stupid, beautiful girl …”

  His nose touches my shoulder and he draws it upwards along my neck, inhaling as he goes. It makes me want to retch. I feel my stomach turning.

  Overcome.

  Scared.

  “I can smell another man’s scent, Arianna.” He pauses and I hold my breath, bracing myself for what might come next. “Sex … it reeks.”

  It might have been eighteen months since I saw him in the flesh, but I can remember the expressions his face holds and I can picture his curled lip and the wild look in his eye. He grabs the hair on the back of my head roughly and I cry out. Every follicle screams as I feel his grip tighten.

  “How did you ever think I wouldn't find you? How did you ever think you would be free?” He almost sings the words, a torturous lullaby, barely a whisper, but loud enough to ring around my head. “Money talks, Arianna. And in your case, the talk was cheap.”

  The ringing in my head gets louder. Echoes further. My eyes lose focus. The pain pulling at my head takes over. “Please ...” I manage to whimper. I hate how desperate I sound, but I don't know another way out.

  “My. Stupid. Beautiful. Girl.” Every word is punctuated with an exhale of stale breath across my skin.

  He wraps an arm around my neck from behind and applies just enough pressure that my intake of breath is affected. I can feel myself react and start to panic, but my body stays paralyzed. I search my mind for ways to get out of this, ways to make it stop, then sharp pain hits the top of my leg, followed by a burning sensation. The mixture of his tightening grip and the realization that he just pushed a needle into me sends me into a spin.

  Oh god, not a needle.

  I’m terrified of needles.

  I’m terrified of what’s in this needle.

  Is he going to kill me? I pull every ounce of strength that I can from my body and claw at his hand with my nails. He drops his grip, letting me go with a snigger and I run. I run as fast and as far away from him as I can. I make it to the bedroom when the edges of my vision blur and start to tunnel. The adrenaline pushes the substance he has injected me with through my body at top speed. It acts fast and my legs lose strength and buckle underneath me.

  The ground seems to rise up toward me, and my head hits the ground with such force that it steals my vision and the world turns black. The last of my senses to leave me is my hearing. Everything echoes like I have my head underwater. I hear him approach, heavy footsteps stopping next to me. An evil laugh comes from deep within him, and I try to fight my body. I try to muster up any last piece of consciousness that I can, but it’s futile.

  “Still trying to run, Arianna. You’ll never learn.”

  My body is jerked to the side and my last conscious breath leaves my body forcefully as his boot hits my ribs. My muscles contort. Old injuries protest. I’m aware that it’s happening, but I don’t feel a thing.

  No vision.

  No feeling in my body, just sound eventually fading …

  Freedom.

  Escape.

  Nothingness.

  To be continued ...

  This story will be concluded in ‘High Stakes’- coming Sept/Oct 2014

  Denham King Alternate POV

  Elevator Meeting

  That damn woman drives me mad. Why she can’t leave me alone is beyond me.

  Yes, I’ve made my bed and now I’m fully aware that I’m lying in it. The problem is that it feels old and uncomfortable, it doesn’t do anything for me anymore. In fact, I think the whole thing with Amy is starting to make me feel ill. She has trouble taking no for an answer, and I know she’s going to be relentless until I make it clear that we’ve reached the end of our … our … well, whatever it is we have.

  I jab my finger in to the button to take me down to the ground floor and my foot taps with impatience. I have stacks of paperwork, which has to be done this week, meetings with investors to potentially expand The Kingdom as a brand and open more establishments, but all of this takes time. It’s something I’m desperately short of and that woman … geez, she ruffles my feathers and not in a good way. If I can get the investments and move forward I can buy her out and then I might just be able to breathe again. I feel my chest tighten as I recall the events that led me to depend on Amy for comfort. It’s not often I reminisce. Delving too deeply opens wounds that have never fully healed, will never fully heal. A fucking great big cavern in my chest.

  The elevator door opens and a body slams into me. I open my mouth to berate the person that has carelessly plastered herself across my body. I am not in the mood for this today.

  Then I look down.

  Dainty hands press against my chest as the culprit struggles to right herself. I grip both of her shoulders to steady her and watch as her gaze travels from the floor, slowly upwards along my body. I don’t miss the subtle flair of her nostrils as her senses force her body to explore what’s right in front of her. Her fingers tighten against my pecs and I feel her nails pushing in my skin. The small gesture makes my dick twitch.

  Fucking hell, King. Now is really not the time to be getting a hard-on.

  Her blue eyes meet mine and my heart sinks. It actually drops to my stomach. She’s fucking beautiful and sexy and … bruised. Her creamy flesh is broken and blackened and I want to reach down and stroke it.

  I’m torn. I’m hit by her natural beauty and drawn in by the way she fits just right in my hands, against my body, but I’m sickened by the vicious black and purple bruising that marks her defined cheekbone. And there’s no light in her eyes. She has beautiful eyes, they could be captivating with a sparkle. What would it take to make them spark? I bet they glisten when she comes.

  Realizing I’ve been staring at her far too long, I quickly mask my thoughts and try out a smile on her. It works.

  “My apologies, Miss …?”

  I watch as she reacts to a shiver that looks like it travels the length of her spine before she stutters.

  “Uh, Jamesson. Miss Jamesson,” she answers, her voice small and breathy.

  She shifts around nervously and her eyes dart to the door of the elevator. She wants to leave, but I don’t want to let go of her just yet. She has me magnetized.

  Then she smiles.

  It’s a nervous smile, but it touches the corners of her eyes and I get a glimpse of her honest beauty. I slide my hands down her bare arms, letting my thumbs skim over her inner elbows and down the underside of her forearm. I don’t miss her sharp intake of breath and the way she looks up at me with her full lips parted just slightly so I can see the wet of her tongue.

  My hands continue to slide until I reach the very tips of her fingers and her pads touch mine.

  She breaks. Her nervousness gets the better of her and she steps to the side, scurrying into the elevator and staring at the back wall. It’s just as well. If she turned and looked back at me, I’m not sure what I’d do.

  Yes, I do.

  I’d kiss her. I’d claim her, right here, right now.

  Then she’d probably run for the hills, you dumbass.

  For fuck�
��s sake, get a grip, man.

  Sure, she’s pretty, actually, she’s more than pretty. She’s probably the most captivating woman I’ve ever seen, and yes, that’s definitely the fastest reaction I’ve ever had to anyone. I want more. Fuck me, do I want more.

  I want my name to roll from her tongue in both a whisper and a scream.

  I want to light a fire in her wounded eyes.

  I need a fucking cold shower and a strong coffee … and some looser fitting slacks before I suffer from acute zipper strain.

  To my wonderful husband – Your support and encouragement means more to me than you’ll ever know. I’m lucky to know what it’s like to have a ‘happily ever after’ and it’s all because of you.

  My two little (big) treasures! Tamara and Jacob. Although this part of the book is all you will read, you deserve a mention just for being awesome! You are my daily inspiration to push forward and be the best that I can be. Thank you for brainstorming title ideas and plotlines with me. I’m very proud of you both and I love you more than life itself.

  Beth (Treacle) – What can I say? This book wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for your gentle persuasion and never wavering encouragement. Your friendship means the world to me and I treasure you beyond words. Thank you for being there every time I need your advice.

  Sarah Arndt – My fabulous blogging partner and beta! Girl, you are one of the best beta’s a writer could want. Your suggestions helped to shape my story and one day I’ll kiss that pretty face of yours!

  NJ Frost-Another awesome beta reader who really knows her stuff. This story would certainly not be what it is without your input and I will buy you Vodka to say thanks!

  My family – Mum, Dad, Lindsay, Carol, Colin and even my Nan and Papa!

  You’re everything to me. You’ve all had an input in making me who I am today, and you haven’t done a bad job, eh?! Thank you for your enthusiasm for my little book. It’s a big step and you all make it worthwhile.

  My extended family – The Groom/Fullers!

  Thank you for believing in this little Cornish girl and making me one of your own.

  The Gang – In no particular order- Jason, Julie, Jason, Tracy, Faye and Phil.

  You guys crack me up. Your suggestions for scenes were fantastic, although not possible to put in this book, I will put them in a book one day. I love all of you very much and look on you as family. Thank you for your unwavering support and your belief in me.

  BJ Harvey – Your book was one of the first I reviewed on the blog and we’ve been friends ever since. I love our uninhibited conversations and the fact that you’re super honest with me. Thank you for pushing me that little bit further than I thought I was capable.

  Hang Le – You, my dear, are a very talented lady. You somehow managed to climb in to my mind and create the most perfect cover for my story. I love it! Thank you just isn’t enough.

  A big thank you to Claire Haiek for having such an Eagle eye, having the patience of a saint and helping me to polish my story so it shines!

  To Jen – for being patient with me when I didn’t even know how to even start on my edits! Thank you for helping me through them.

  Natalie and the ladies at Love Between the sheets- You guys are the best, most organised tour hosts and you’ve saved my sanity on many occasion. Thank you for doing such an awesome job.

  Kassi – thank you for prettying up my baby!

  Lara – thank you for your insightful knowledge of Las Vegas, you have been my ‘go to’ on many occasions and I hope I did you proud.

  I’d also like to thank Jane Harvey-Berrick, Kirsty Still and Sydney Jamesson for your UK tax knowledge and your invaluable advice.

  Casey Ford, Kelsey Burns, Sheena Lumsden, Layla Hagan, A.M.Madden, Devon Marie, Natalie Jane, Patricia Lee, Lisa Jayne, Chris Carmilia, Nikki Hardie – Thank you all for your advice, support, kind words and overall enthusiasm for my story. You all rock!

  To all the bloggers and readers that have taken time out of your busy lives to read, promote and share stories just because you love them. Thank you for taking a chance on this new indie! I appreciate each and every one of you.

  Lastly I want to thank anyone that said I couldn’t do it. Anyone who stabbed me in the back, belittled me or generally did me wrong. You made me stronger and you made me push forward harder. So, thank you and up yours!

  Nikki Groom is a hopeless romantic, lover of all things happily ever after and firm believer that love makes the world go around.

  In her spare time, you will find Nikki laughing with her very treasured family, walking with her beloved dog in the hundred acre wood or curled up in a cosy corner with words and wine.

  She lives in East Sussex with her husband and two children. Having turned her hand to many things over the years, Nikki is now proud to add ‘author’ to that list.

  Having always been a dreamer, Nikki’s imagination stretches far and wide, which enables her to get lost in faraway places and imaginary people.

  Nikki loves to chat, especially about books! You can find her here…

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/authornikkigroom

  Twitter: @nikkigroom4

  Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8126807.Nikki_Groom

  Email: nikkigroom.author@gmail.com

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