by V. F. Mason
During our last meeting, which happened two days ago, he made a deal with me. He gave me all the information he had about the organization he gathered through all those years, in exchange for a promise that once he made just as much as a missed call to me, I'd track him down and come as soon as possible. He needed to protect his woman.
''Damian. Are you really fucking dead?'' I asked the cold night, not really waiting for a reply. With a last glance from the balcony, I went back inside the office to set in motion Sapphire's move, along with all the paperwork that needed to be done.
Five Years Later
North Carolina
2016
Sapphire
“Mommy.”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Don’t be mad.”
My hands stopped typing another chapter of my book and I spun around in my chair to face my four-and-a-half-year-old daughter, who wore a guilty expression on her face. Her long amber hair tied back in a ponytail had leaves in it as her sapphire eyes—just like mine—widened in anticipation for my answer. The pink dress on her thin body was covered in dirt, and her hands held a small puppy. “What did you do?”
She blinked several times then raised the puppy in her hands to my nose. I came face-to-face with an adorable German shepherd puppy, whose tongue was hanging from his mouth as he studied my face, and then he gave me a quick lick. Wincing and cleaning my cheek with a nearby tissue, I glared at my child. “Kristina, what did you do?”
“I found him in our yard.”
My brows furrowed in confusion. “In our yard?”
She nodded then patted the puppy again. “He was running around the oak tree, and he is so cute, Mommy. We should keep him.”
Taking a deep breath, I held my daughter’s eyes. “Honey, we can’t keep him. He probably wandered around and neighbors are searching for him.”
Kristina raised her chin stubbornly and her eyes narrowed. “Then they shouldn’t have left him alone. I’m claiming him, Mommy.”
My breath stopped for a second; it always did when she reminded me of her father. Seriously, a shout out to all single mothers out there who take care of their kids all alone, because it was a damn hard job.
Once I signed the papers for the Witness Protection Program, Connor and Melissa gave me a new passport with a different name and identity. I was Katrina Jackson, orphaned at a young age, and a single mom who decided to move to the small coastal city in the southern part of the States due to the economy. They bought me a house, a second-hand car, and gave me some cash to get by. They found me a job at the local library, and since no one wanted the job, no one minded my pregnancy.
They contacted me once a month to let me know nothing was over, and I suspected it never would be. The solitude here allowed me to focus on my writing when I was going crazy from the loneliness. I finally self-published my first novel, and surprisingly, my book did well and brought in good money.
A year ago, my baby fell in love with a house near the beach, and it was impossible to refuse her. I had to stay low, and no one would come looking for me here. Everybody already thought I was dead. We had a little piece of Heaven here, and for the most part, I was happy. My life was good. I even had some friends in the town, and we were part of the community. The only downer in the whole scenario was my inability to meet my readers, who sent me constant e-mails asking if I would be present at different signings. All this was too dangerous; so every time, I had to refuse and keep my identity, in this case a photo, a secret.
The nights held nightmares, but I learned to deal with them.
“Honey, you can’t claim someone else’s puppy.”
“Yes, I can.”
“No you can’t—” The doorbell rang loudly, stopping me mid-sentence, and I gestured for her to sit on the couch. “This conversation is not over.” She sat down on the floor instead—thank God, it was wooden—and put the puppy, who kept on licking everything that came in contact with him, in her lap. Was he thirsty? Great, now even I started to care for the animal. As a kid, I dreamed of having a dog, but it quickly died when my parents refused to let me have one.
No. I shook my head. Memories of the past didn't belong in my new life.
Making my way to the door, my eyes wandered around the living room, appreciating the view around me. The overall color theme of our home was purples and whites, while photos of Kristina and me in different stages of her life decorated the walls. The kitchen was large, with a round, wooden table in the middle covered in a purple tablecloth. The windows in there faced our yard, which allowed me to always keep a close eye on Kristina.
The breakfast bar opened up to the living room, with a huge couch, two chairs, and a flat screen TV. While the furniture was white, various variations of purple blankets laid over them along with purple rugs. Roses in several vases were placed around the room. Their smell calmed me down. Upstairs, we had three bedrooms and two bathrooms. We had a guest bedroom, but rarely did anyone stay there.
While Kristina’s princess-style room had all purples, my room had the same color theme as the rest of the house. Annie, my best friend, told me I was crazy to have all the white with a small kid who made it her mission to get dirty on a daily basis. While it was the truth, I wouldn't have it any other way, and I refused to decorate my house differently. The house was our home, part of the real us, and I wanted it to be perfect.
Finally, I opened the door to a man who stood there with his back to me, and something inside me stopped.
No men came over.
Ever.
“Hello?” I asked curiously, and his shoulders tensed. He slowly turned around and my breath hitched. For the last five years, men had been the last thing on my mind. I never dated, never wanted to date, let alone notice if anyone was handsome. The Witness Protection Program and a small child didn't exactly provide the best circumstances for dating. I hadn't sworn off dating. Someday, I wanted to get married and have a father figure for Kristina, but it was too soon. Plus, every man I’d met here never sparked anything inside me. They were handsome, but they somehow appeared not dominant enough for me and lacked the strong masculinity my tastes preferred.
But this stranger was nothing but manly. He was tall with broad shoulders, ripped and muscled, and I seriously had no idea a shirt could stretch so much. His face was covered with a beard and he had a shaggy haircut. The sunglasses on his face didn’t allow me to see the color of his eyes, but mine didn’t miss the scars around his neck, as though someone had sliced his throat open. His hands were in his back pockets as we faced each other, and an odd feeling washed over me, reminding me of the past.
Before he could answer, Kristina crashed against my leg and gazed at the stranger with interest in her eyes. The puppy followed her shortly and, to my surprise, sat down beside the stranger’s leg.
“Lucky!” Kristina’s voice held outrage.
“Lucky?” I asked dumbly.
My daughter nodded and pointed at the dog. “That’s his name.”
I closed my eyes and prayed for some kind of strength to deal with my kid. “Honey, you can’t name a dog that doesn’t belong to you.” Then I looked up to the stranger, whose attention oddly focused on my daughter, studying her, and then he squatted down on his haunches in front of her and picked up the puppy, who immediately calmed down in his arms.
“You like the puppy?” His voice was low, hoarse, and slightly scratchy. As if he learned how to speak all over again. Maybe those scars on his neck made him lose his original voice. Kristina nodded, and he put the pup in her hands as her mouth widened in a smile. “He’s yours.” She hugged the damn dog close.
“Really?”
“Yes, he is mine, but I think he prefers to live here more.”
She squealed, unexpectedly threw her arms around him, and hugged him close with all her might. The man froze, and then gently, his hands returned her hug. He let go of her then and stood up. Kristina jumped excitedly.
“Mommy, we get to keep him.” I open
ed my mouth to correct her, because no way had I given my permission to the man who disappeared from view, leaving us on the porch alone. “We do, right?” Kristina tugged on my pants irritably, and with a heavy sigh, I nodded, but my hands took him away from her. With a stern look in my eyes, I pointed at the bathroom. “Wash your hands and face, lady. Then change to clean clothes. I’m going to give Lucky a bath. And no running around with the dog in the house if his paws are dirty.”
She pouted, but it was something I wouldn't budge on, so she followed my instructions.
As I was walking to the bathroom, I wondered how in the hell in the span of ten minutes I ended up with a puppy and met my new neighbor.
Or more importantly, why it still bothered me he left so abruptly, without saying a single word to me.
Later That Night
After finishing my bathroom routine, I went to check on Kristina, and to my relief, she slept soundly, with Lucky on the corner of her bed. Shaking my head in amusement, I covered the pup with a small blanket and left the blue bedside lamp on, so she wouldn't be afraid of the dark.
Closing the door behind me, I rested my back against it and took a deep breath. As exhausting as it was to raise a child on your own, the moments when she went to sleep somehow seemed the worst, because quietness overtook the house, and there was no running away from memories or demons. I went to my room, and to my surprise, the curtains were flying high from the wind as the room brightened in the moonlight. My hand removed the pin from my hair and allowed it to cascade down my back as the soft breeze ran over my skin, and the fresh, beach smell filled the air. Still wearing a towel, I grabbed body lotion and raised my leg on the bed as I applied it.
Suddenly, the air changed around me, and instantly, the presence of another person registered in my mind. Strong hands grabbed me from behind, one covering my mouth to prevent screaming, and the other hand removed the lotion from my hands and threw it across the room. We both were breathing heavily, and from the strong chest to my back, I understood it was a male. He spun me around, and to my shock, it was the stranger from the porch tonight. He pushed me against the wall, trapping me with his body and still covering my mouth with his hand. The position allowed me to have a better look at him.
His eyes, the ones he hid from me.
Amber eyes.
Once I stopped struggling, he removed his hand from my mouth as my whisper echoed in the room.
“Damian?”
Somewhere in Russia…
The tall man stood on the balcony, admiring the view in front of him as people partied downstairs. He was completely naked, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact as he sipped his whiskey; the sound of ice clanking was the only noise that filled the room. His hands and back were covered in various tattoos, leaving barely any gorgeous tan skin to admire. He had a massive and ripped body, and rarely anyone looked at him without fear. The man’s shoulder-length black hair lightened up in the night, creating a mysterious vision.
He tensed as a soft hand touched his sweat-soaked back, and she gently ran her fingers over the tattoo that represented the Gemini sign. Any touch that didn’t include sex as physical release repulsed him and made him want to rip the hand away from his body. He was always up when the need came to wet his dick in any willing pussy; looks or anything else didn’t matter. All women were faceless bodies that he used from time to time. The man’s restless mood urged him to go for round two, which he rarely did, but the woman made the mistake of touching him, although he specifically instructed her not to. A jerking session under the shower would have to do.
“We’re done,” his low and growly voice said, and the hand on his back twitched as the woman took a step back from him and, without another word, gathered her clothes, and in a minute, left the room, leaving him alone. He already hated the smell of her overused perfume.
His phone beeped inside the hotel room, putting a stop to his solitude. He threw the empty glass on the rumpled bed, grabbed his cell, and opened up the message.
He’s alive.
His heart stopped beating for a moment and then started pounding rapidly as his eyes closed in relief.
“Damian,” he whispered, and his hands, as always, touched his very first knife wound, which always reminded him of his brother.
Damian’s and Sapphire’s story concludes in ‘’Sociopath’s Revenge.’’
Coming July 2016.
First, I want to thank God and my family for allowing me to write and make this dream possible. The support means so much to me, and I understand that sometimes it drives you crazy, especially when I try to meet my deadlines and seem unavailable to you. But I love you guys and appreciate everything you do for me.
Thank you to Mayhem Cover Creations for all the amazing job she did with formatting, teasers, and my website.
Thank you to Perfect Pear Creative Cover for fabulous cover.
Huge thank you to Hot Tree Editing team for helping me with my editing process. Especially Becky, Peggy, and Kayla. Plus beta readers and final eyes, who gave me valuable feedback and made sure I covered any plot holes I had.
Thank you to Enticing Journey Book Promotions for everything they did!
Thank you to every blogger and reader who took a chance on me and went on this crazy journey of Damian’s and Sapphire’s story.
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Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Acknowledgments
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