by A. m Madden
Dark Corners is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A Loveswept Ebook Original
Copyright © 2016 by A. M. Madden
Excerpt from Hers to Heal by Vonnie Davis copyright © 2016 by Vonnie Davis
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Loveswept, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.
LOVESWEPT is a registered trademark and the LOVESWEPT colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.
This book contains an excerpt from the forthcoming book Hers to Heal by Vonnie Davis. This excerpt has been set for this edition only and may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition.
Ebook ISBN 9780425284971
Cover photograph: © FX Quadro/Shutterstock
randomhousebooks.com
v4.1
ep
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
By A. M. Madden
About the Author
Excerpt from Hers to Heal
Chapter 1
David
“David…David, wake up!”
A hand squeezed my arm in the most annoying manner. Cold fingers gripped my flesh, shaking me over and over until rage quickly replaced the irritation I felt.
“Get the fuck off me!” I yelled, shoving at whoever was touching me. I heard a gasp and then sobs.
I blinked against the darkness as my eyes tried to focus, but all I could see was my best friend’s lifeless body beside me. Whether my eyes were opened or closed, that was all I could see. Day or night, conscious or not, the image of his head lolling backward as he sat three feet away from me consumed my thoughts like an old 35mm movie stuck on one frame.
You know the kind that your grandparents made you watch when you were a kid? Grainy images flashing on a projector screen, no sound except for the noise that the film made as it circled the reel.
Flick…flick…flick…flick…
The sobs beside me increased, louder and louder, over and over.
In a terrifyingly calm voice, I said, “You need to leave.”
She looked at me dumbstruck. “What?”
“You need to go, now.”
“But, it’s the middle of the night….” Her words halted the moment my eyes focused on hers. Her half-naked torso distorted each time I blinked. She modestly clutched the sheet to her frame as it molded over the outline of her tits, the same ones I had sucked on a few hours ago. They shook beneath the fabric from those annoying sobs that continued to roll through her.
I could kill her…that would make her stop. The crying was what drove me nuts. I couldn’t take it. If I reached over with my callused hand to the smooth, pale skin of her neck and squeezed long and hard…silence.
I needed silence, no noise, just fucking quiet.
But she had no clue that’s what I needed. They never did. No one knew that so many times as they droned on and on, all I thought of as I stared blankly were methods to silence them.
She gawked at me while panting and sobbing dramatically. Why the fuck wasn’t she leaving?
I walked over to where my jeans lay in a pile on the floor. The condom wrapper beside them made me feel sick. Retrieving my wallet, I pulled out a twenty and tossed it on the bed. “I’m sorry. Please call yourself a cab, but I really need you to go…now,” I said bluntly, to leave no doubt what I was requesting…and mainly to stop the noise.
My words clicked, causing her concern to turn to anger. “I am not a whore!” she said through clenched teeth. My eyes tracked her as she scurried about the room, her long blond hair flying around while she grabbed clothes off the floor and hastily threw them on.
“I’m sorry,” I said before she slammed the door behind her.
Walking my naked self into the bathroom, I turned the water to cold and immediately stepped under its punishing stream. With each minute that went by, I waited for the icy pins and needles to wash away every torment I knew, both past and present. While under that shower, I could cancel out the pain that took hold of my insides like a cancer and revel in the pain that pounded on my skin until I went numb.
Transferring pain was my drug of choice.
Fuck the therapists. Fuck the prescriptions they peddled.
I controlled my pain, no one else but me.
How?
Distancing myself.
Me, David G. Cavello, Private First Class, U.S. Army, who successfully completed my deployment in Baghdad, Iraq—the closest place to hell on earth. The soldier who at one time considered making it his career; that is, until he watched his best friend die right beside him, triggering a mental breakdown of sorts.
I was considered a model citizen, a brave soldier, an American Hero.
What a fucking joke.
If I was such a hero, then why was I plagued with tempting thoughts of strangling a hot blonde I fucked, just because she wouldn’t stop crying?
Not until my skin was numb did I finally turn off the frigid water.
I draped a towel around my waist and stepped out of the shower to stare at myself in the mirror. I barely recognized the man who stared back.
There had to be something out there to bring me back to normal. Normal meant someone who wasn’t constantly thinking he was here one minute, the next gone…no warning, just gone. It happened that quickly, that senselessly…so what was the fucking point of it all?
That was what it all came down to.
One moment that changed everything.
No soul on this planet had any idea that they balanced on any given moment, like a circus flea on the head of a pin. Was it luck, coincidence that kept them from falling off? Yet, during that one brief moment, someone else, somewhere else, lost their battle and plummeted to their death?
Barry’s moment could have easily been mine.
Maygen
“Miss Whitney.”
Even from ten feet away his stern, formal tone carried right to me as I exited my building; it was as if he were speaking through a megaphone. The man was definitely persistent. Then again, he was paid well. He stood proud at the curb while holding open the door of my father’s black Lincoln.
“Not today, Warren,” I said with a firm shake of my head, veering away from the opened door in the opposite direction. My father would get over it, as he did every other day I refused his help.
“But, Miss—”
“I’m fine, Warren!” I called out with a wave of my hand. “Have a great day!”
I could feel his eyes on my back as the heels of my boots clicked down the sidewalk toward the corner.
Tightening the belt on my trench coat, I headed south on Madison Avenue. It was chilly for December, but it wasn’t freezing.
I quickly dialed my father’s cell number to chastise him once again.
“How’s my princess? Warren driving you to work?”
“No, Dad, he is not. Can you stop sending Warren, please? It’s a waste of the poor man’s time.”
“No it’s not. Why can’t you make your old man happy? Why do you insist on giving me daily heartburn?”
I released every bit of carbon dioxide I held in my lungs, but the city traffic around me drowned out the effects of my frustration. “I’d…rather…walk.”
“Stubborn, just like your mother was. Can I send him later so you don’t have to worry about getting home in the dark?”
“Why, is there a sudden rash of vampires tormenting the city after it gets dark?”
“Okay, smarty-pants. Have a good day.”
“You too, Dad.”
“Oh, and, princess, I’ll be trying again tomorrow.”
“Please don’t.”
“We’ll see. Please be careful. Love you.”
I softened my tone and repeated the same.
He claimed I was stubborn…what a joke. There was no need for a twenty-five-year-old to be driven to and from work like a child. Living in Manhattan gave me freedom, liberties that most young professionals only dreamed of. I loved my job, and most of all I loved that I accomplished it without Daddy’s help.
Don’t get me wrong, I also loved my dad dearly, but he drove me nuts by refusing to listen to my complaints about being coddled.
After we lost my mother in an accident when I was twelve, his overbearing behavior became stifling…yet I understood his reasons.
Regardless, I couldn’t allow him an inch, because then he’d take a whole foot. His constant worrying was his issue, not mine. I learned how to pick my battles, and he learned how to keep most of his irrationally over-the-top protectiveness to himself. It didn’t happen overnight. Our relationship was a work in progress, and would continue to be.
He refused to remarry. Not because it was a disaster, but because my father had had the love of his life and had no intention of finding another. That didn’t stop him from dating. Dad enjoyed the company of strong, successful women. He always made sure they knew companionship was all he was interested in. The reality that my dad was one of the most eligible bachelors in this city was a bit disturbing to me.
With his salt-and-pepper hair, clean-shaven face, and an obsession for well-tailored suits, he was a handsomely distinguished man. Now in his mid-fifties, he had aged well and caught the eye of women both old and young. Rumor had it that he truly knew how to treat a woman. Wining, dining, and placing them on a pedestal made him a wanted man among women, wealthy and gold-digger alike.
Besides being known for his dating habits, Garrett Whitney was also one of the most powerful businessmen in Manhattan. His name was synonymous with some of the biggest A-list celebrities and successful companies in America. The King of PR, as most dubbed him, was a tyrant when it came to business…but a teddy bear when it came to me.
Dad worked very hard for his success. He always surrounded himself with loyal, hardworking people and rewarded them greatly for their dedication. With offices in Los Angeles and New York City, Whitney Public Relations ranked in the top one hundred firms to work for in the United States. College graduates throughout the country clamored for an internship, or even just an interview.
That, however, was why I carried a tremendous amount of guilt for my strong objection to working at my dad’s firm. He had wanted so badly for me to take an interest in his work, wanting to groom me as his successor.
Yeah, no, thank you.
My phone rang as I opened the door to my morning coffee spot.
“Are you at Great Perks yet?” my best friend, Betha, immediately asked without a hello.
“Walking in now.”
“Grab me a large latte, please. I spilled mine all over your desk.”
“My desk?”
“Yeah. My bad. I’ll explain later.” I released a sigh as I moved into the store to get in line. “And get up here quick. Dax called. My guess is he’ll be calling your cell any minute.”
On cue, my phone buzzed against my cheek. I quickly glanced at it to see Dax’s number spread across the screen. “He’s calling me now. Let me get our coffees. I’ll be up in a few.”
“Okay, see you soon, my favorite bitch.”
I purposely hit IGNORE on the incoming call, not wanting to yell my way through an international call with my boss while standing in Great Perks.
I started working with Dax after graduating from the Fashion Institute of Technology. Landing a job with such an extremely talented designer was not something I took for granted. He loved everything about the female body, and his designs showed as much. Each dress, blouse, skirt caressed his models’ curves like a lover’s hands. A celebrity wearing one of Dax’s designs to an awards show usually meant they’d been asked to do so.
He was in London now, which meant the desperate urgency to reach me could range anywhere from finding the best place for a scone to forwarding the entire fall line image by image via text message…all one hundred of them.
The line moved fast, and it was only a few minutes later when I hurried out of the café with two lattes in hand. Once again my phone buzzed from inside my pocket, forcing an eye-roll as I muttered, “God, give me strength,” to no one in particular.
Just as I turned the corner, I walked face-first into a wall. The impact sent me falling backward and I landed hard on my ass in the middle of the sidewalk. In slow motion, I watched the coffee cups tumble in the air before hitting the concrete with a wet explosion right between my spread thighs.
“What the fu—” The string of profanities I’d planned on unleashing died the moment I saw what it was I had run into. My eyes flew upward and widened at the sight of him. He was all muscle, built like a linebacker but with the face of a model.
“I’m so sorry,” he said.
He extended a hand, and I wordlessly took it, accepting his help. I followed his eyes and looked down at the dark brown stains splattered on my ivory coat, with most of the spilt liquid concentrated on the crotch of my ivory jeans.
“Crap,” I muttered, pulling my hand from his grip. “Crap. Crap. Crap!”
“I’m so, so sorry,” he repeated. I watched him frown as he unwrapped a scarf from his neck and handed it to me. “Here, use this. I’ll pay for the laundering.”
My irritation quickly dissipated at his chivalrous act of kindness. “That’s okay.” I gently pushed his hand away while shaking my head. “It’s not your fault. I should have been paying attention.”
A dazzling smile spread over his lips. “I’m David,” he said, offering his other hand for a new reason.
I accepted, and his long fingers completely engulfed mine. “I’m Maygen.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Maygen. Can I at least buy you another?” he asked, nodding toward the coffee casualties lying on the sidewalk.
“Really, it’s not…”
“Please?”
I flexed my hand that still remained in his firm grip. He shrugged another apology and slowly released me.
“Okay. That would be nice, thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
His eyes focused on my mouth, and he slowly reached over and dragged his scarf over my lips, cheek, and down my neck. I could smell his cologne on the soft fleece fabric, and without conscious thought leaned into his comforting touch. When his gaze met mine, he hesitated before saying, “Can’t have you walking around with coffee all over your face,” with an adorable lopsided smile. When I hadn’t moved or responded, he motioned toward the corner and added, “Shall we?”
Together we walked around the corner back to Great Perks. As I opened the d
oor I waited for him to enter. He placed a large hand on the small of my back and said, “After you.”
An awkward shyness took hold as we waited in line side by side.
“Back so soon, Maygen?” Brad eyed the stains on my coat and smiled. “Ah, two more lattes?”
“Yes, please.”
In silence, David waited for Brad to fill my order before paying and telling him to keep the change. Not until we were back outside on the busy sidewalk did he finally speak to me. “Maygen, I feel terrible about the stains on your clothes. Can I please take care of them?”
“Honestly, there’s no need. I work for a designer. He’s out of town, so I’ll raid the sample closet.” Lifting the cups I was holding, I said, “This was very kind of you. Thank you, again.”
“You’re welcome,” he responded with another crooked smile. His eyes took me in from head to toe. The way they panned over me forced a blush to color my cheeks.
As I turned to walk away, he called out, “Wait. How about lunch instead?”
He stepped closer, shoving both his hands deep into his pockets. With him standing so close, I had to look up at his face. He had to be at least six four, making us a foot apart in height. His light brown hair was cropped close to his head, yet I could still see the curl in the short strands. His delicious scruff framed his lips like they were a work of art. In fact, they were just that…full yet firm. I could only imagine the damage he could do with them.
As I stood gaping, one corner of those full, gorgeous lips lifted sexily. I had known him all of five minutes, and I could already tell this man could bring a woman to her knees with that adorable smirk. He was very handsome, even more so when he smiled. But the smile never quite reached his mysterious eyes. Their vivid green, speckled with gold flecks, had me mesmerized.
