by Linda Verji
NOT BROKEN
Firebacks Book Two
Linda Verji
Other Books in This Series
Daddy’s Home (Book #1)
Copyright © 2014 by Linda Verji
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the author, excepting brief quotes in reviews.
This is an original work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Contains Explicit Sex & Language for Mature Audience 18+
For Catherine, who deserves a happy ending more than any other woman I know.
*
Thanks to my Wattpad family for supporting me in the creation of this series; and to A.B. Ewing for the wonderful advice, help in editing and for letting me borrow Rafe and Dahlia. I couldn’t have done it without you.
PROLOGUE
They say no one knows their dying day. They say that it will come like a thief in the night. They have no idea what they are talking about. Some people know their dying day.
Tasha Nelson knew she was going to die today.
He was going to kill her.
Any normal woman would’ve been scared. Any normal woman would’ve been sweating right now or at least trembling. Any normal woman wouldn’t even be here. Tasha wasn’t normal. He’d crushed the normal out of her a long time ago, punched it out and stomped on it. He’d strangled every bit of normalcy she’d ever known the moment he’d choked her finger with his ring.
Tasha ascended the stairs, her fingers tracing the beautiful patterns on its railings. Her face was a blank slate showing neither fear nor sadness. She glanced at the large paintings that crowded the wall. There she was smiling into the camera. There she was cradling baby Asia in her arms. There Polo was with a wide smile and his arm around her shoulders, sheltering his family protectively.
Pictures lie!
These ones only showed the happy family. They didn’t show the lingering pain in Tasha’s smiling eyes. They didn’t show the sickness in Asia’s body. They didn’t show Polo’s protective arm, backhand Tasha once the cameras were gone. And they certainly didn’t show the numerous other families he’d built outside their home.
He was her life.
He was her nightmare.
He was her man.
And he was going to kill her!
She walked down the hallway, her heels barely making a sound as she mentally rehearsed all the ways she was going to beg him to spare her. I’m not the one who told them that you faked Ashenafi’s DNA test. No, that wouldn’t work. If Polo had half a mind, he’d already have figured out that she was the one who’d told the Ford’s of his duplicitous actions to pass off his own son as theirs.
They forced me to tell them. That wouldn’t work either. It just slipped out. I couldn’t stand to watch my friends suffering so much. That was closer to the truth but Tasha knew it wouldn’t work on Polo. If he was going to spare her, she was going to have to beg and crawl for it. She was prepared to even lick his feet if that was it took to stay alive.
Tasha opened the door to her daughter’s room. The little girl was seated on her bed, thoughtfully chewing on a pencil as she stared at her pink diary. Asia turned her gaze to the door at her mother’s entry, her eyes and her smile, so like her father’s, lighting up her rounded face.
My beautiful baby –only eight years old and already so beaten by life!
The immediate sadness was almost crippling in its intensity as the weight of her situation bore down on her. Tasha wasn’t afraid of death. Polo had threatened her with it so many times that he’d diluted its power for her. But even she wasn’t stupid enough to confront it head on.
If it wasn’t for Asia she would’ve left the house the minute the police had come and taken Polo away. If it wasn’t for Asia, she’d be in Russia or Malawi or Brazil – somewhere so far off Polo would need an alien tracking device and the Men In Black to find her. If it wasn’t for Asia she wouldn’t be putting her neck on the chopping board and hoping that her executioner would show mercy.
“Mama…” Asia got off the bed, came towards Tasha and wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist. “…can we go to Aunty Zain’s today? Maari promised that he was going to teach me how to-”
“Not today, baby,” Tasha interrupted, somehow managing to speak through the hard lump of sadness in her throat. “Daddy’s coming home in a couple of minutes and we have to be here to welcome him.”
“Oh.” Almost immediately the smile fell off Asia’s face and it was replaced by fear. Her arms tightened around Tasha’s waist. Since they’d taken Polo away, Asia had never asked after him.
“It’s gonna be okay, baby,” Tasha soothed as she ran her hands through Asia’s braids. “We’re gonna be okay.”
It sounded like a lie even to her own ear.
Pulling away from Asia, Tasha crouched till they were at eye-level. “Honey, I want you to do me a favor.”
“’Kay.”
“When I leave I’m going to lock you door with my key. I want you to put your earphones on and sleep until I come for you, okay?”
“’Kay.” Asia nodded, understanding the seriousness of the situation.
“If I don’t come for you by morning, you remember what I told you to do right?”
“I climb through…” Asia’s words trailed off as she threw a scared look at the upper right corner of the room where a camera watched them. Tasha had already told her that the camera couldn’t pick up sound but Asia had asked what if he could read lips. Tasha said he couldn’t but that wasn’t enough to convince her.
She shuffled closer to Tasha and whispered in her ear, “I’ll climb through the window with my medicine backpack and take the bus up to Aunty Zain’s house and give her your letter.”
“You remember the directions?” asked Tasha. Asia nodded. They’d taken several practice runs on the bus just so that Asia could remember the way on her own. “Good girl!”
She’d debated whether to send Asia away or not. If Polo came back and found Asia gone, it would only intensify his anger. At least this way, Asia had a way out if anything went wrong.
Asia was the whole reason for her living and her dying. She could’ve walked away if it wasn’t for Asia. But she didn’t blame her little angel. This was God’s fault. He was the one who’d put them into this situation. Today she’d have a chance to ask him face to face.
“Mama, I can’t breathe.” Asia’s voice was muffled in her chest.
“Sorry, baby.” Tasha released her.
“Why are you crying?” Asia asked , wiping the tears Tasha didn’t even know she was shedding with her small palms.
“Mama’s just really sorry,” Tasha said with a watery smile as she stood up. “I love you, baby.”
“Love you too.” Asia’s arms tightened around Tasha’s waist. For a moment they stood like that holding each other before Tasha finally ended the embrace. With one final kiss, she walked towards the door. She took one last look at her daughter, tattooing Asia’s innocent face in her mind before walking out. With her key, the only key to Asia’s room, she locked her in.
The one thing Tasha appreciated Polo for was his obsession with privacy and security. All the doors were made of heavy wood so he wouldn’t be able to kick in the door to Asia’s room. If he wanted to get in, he’d either have to get the key from her -which was never going to happen-or get someone to come and pick the lock. By the time that happened, Asia would be out of the house and safe – unlike her. Tasha walked back to the master bedroom, unobtrusively
slipped a recorder under her pillow and waited.
Several hours later – around midnight – she heard the car in the driveway. She was sure they’d released him much earlier so he’d probably visited one of his whores. It didn’t bother her. The only thought running through her mind was that Polo was here. It was time to start praying. His heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs before he flung open the door to their room. The heavy wood crushed into the wall with a loud bang.
That must be what people look like when they’ve been to hell and back.
Cuts and bruises marred his handsome face with one particularly nasty gash glinting just above his eyebrow. His once white shirt was now stained with drops of blood and sweat and his pants were ripped at one knee to reveal ashy dark skin. He was also missing one shoe. However what was worrying was the mad spark in his eyes.
The spark grew into a raging flame as his gaze settled on her.
“I know you’re the one who told them,” he said. All the excuses she’d prepared were swept away like chaff by the wind. He smiled – that cruel tilt of his lips to the side that always came before a storm began – and started to unbutton his shirt. “I told you what would happen if you snitched.”
She watched him silently as he stripped and dumped his clothes on the floor. Once upon a time she’d thought the sun rose and fell on his tall heavily muscled body. Once upon a time it would’ve only taken one glance at his already lengthening dick for her to be turned on. Once upon a time!
“Don’t move,” he threw over his shoulders as he headed to the bathroom. She could hear the sound of water running in the shower as Polo washed off the scent of the holding cell. He came out a couple of minutes later, still wet and unabashed in his complete nakedness. He was now completely hard.
“Take off your clothes.” His voice was cold, almost as cold as the icy waves of fear it injected into her veins. I should apologize. I should say something. Her brain was running at a thousand miles per minute trying to figure out a way to keep her from getting killed but for some reason her mouth wasn’t cooperating. However any thoughts she had of defending herself were abruptly cut off when he barked, “I said take off your clothes.”
Her fingers trembled as she unbuttoned her blouse and her legs shook as she stood up and unzipped her skirt. The fabric fell to the floor with barely a rustle – in complete opposition to the thunderous thumping of her heart in her rib-cage. Polo didn’t even look at her as he rummaged through his sock drawer. He just added, “Everything.”
Tasha unclipped her bra and dropped it to the ground before pushing her panties down her legs into the same pile of clothes.
“Lie on the bed,” he barked, “on your stomach.”
The bed dipped as Tasha obediently settled on it. She buried her head in the pillow and closed her eyes, praying that her death would be faster. The air moved and got heavier beside her with Polo’s soapy scent suffusing it as he stood next to the bed, but she didn’t lift her head. Cold metal pressed against her temple as the cylindrical mouth of a gun dug into her skin.
She closed her eyes tighter. Goodbye Asia!
“Look at me,” he said instead of shooting her. “Look at me!”
Tasha turned her head, only to find herself staring directly up the barrel of the gun.
“You thought the one I shot Lucky’s bitch with was the only one I had, didn’t you?” He chuckled as he crouched next to the bed. He looked at the gun lovingly before kissing it. “Nope! I’ve got them tucked all around this house just for fuckers like you and them.”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean-”
“Too late, Tasha.” He abruptly cut her off by pressing the gun to her head again. Then pulled the trigger.
Click!
It took Tasha a while to realize that nothing had happened and that she was still alive. Still frightened out of her mind, she pried her tightly closed eyes open. When she did, she found him still crouched beside the bed with a grin plastered on his face.
“You thought I’d killed you, right? You should’ve seen your face.” He started to laugh – the raucous sound filling the whole room. He was so amused that he plopped down on the carpet as his body continued to heave with mirth. Finally the laughing stopped.
“You know I really thought I was going to kill you,” he explained. “When they dragged me away like a dog, I was sure you were going to die but then sitting in that cell, it hit me. If you die right now, everybody will know it was me. So guess what Tasha? It’s your lucky day. Sentence suspended.”
Was he serious?
He said, “Say thank you, Polo.”
“Thank you, Polo,” she repeated quickly, the instant relief almost overwhelming in its intensity. I’m not going to die. Her heart began to settle into a normal beat but his next words sent it skittering in panic again.
“But I can’t let this kind’a fuckery go unpunished,” he said, shaking his head like a parent speaking to their errant child. He put the gun on the bedside table before hopping to his feet. It was then that she noticed the belt in his hand.
The first lash caught her unawares. She screamed as tough leather met her skin leaving behind a crippling sting
“You’re going to wish I had killed you.” The belt cut into the air again, the whizzing sound paving the way for even more agony. The blinding pain tore through her body in rapid waves.
I won’t cry. I won’t cry for him. The tears began to seep out anyway as the leather fell multiple times cutting into her skin. Over and over again, he hit her. Each time Tasha screamed until eventually there were no more screams in her and she merely groaned in pain. Finally he stopped.
The belt dropped to the floor with a clutter and the bed dipped. He forcefully lifted the bottom half of her body off the bed so that she was kneeling but her head still lay on the bed. Without any preliminaries, he drove into her. Her tears flowed as he tore into her with the force of his thrusts. Only the sounds of his groans punctuated the still silence as he sated himself within her body.
This was nothing compared to the lashes, but it still hurt.
Her tormentor!
Her rapist!
Her husband!
She kept her face in the pillow, her tears soaking the soft fabric as her fingers clutched the recorder underneath. Once he was done, he slumped beside her with a groan. Tasha lowered her aching body back to the bed but before she could settle on it, he used his feet to push her off the bed. She fell to the floor with a painful thud.
“You’re not sleeping. You’re going to sit there till morning. If I find that you even closed your eyes for a second, I’ll fuck you up.” With a bit of shifting on the bed, Polo closed his eyes, readying himself for comfortable night sleep.
Tasha crawled on all fours on the carpeted floor then sat with her back to the wall, naked as the day she was born. Her fingers tightened about the recorder as she wrapped her arms around her legs and placed her chin on her knees. She watched as sleep claimed Polo. Slowly the pain in her body faded and was replaced by cold determination.
One day she was going to pay him.
One day!
CHAPTER 1
Where’s this relationship going?
Those are the five words every man dreads. You especially don’t want to hear them when you’re stark naked, hard as nails and all you can think about is getting your rocks off.
Kian Harper was poised above her supporting himself on his arms to keep from crushing the woman beneath him with his naked weight. She was lying on the bed, her legs spread and her hands covering the pussy that currently held his attention. There was a wily glint in her eyes as she spoke the words. “Where’s this relationship going?”
Fuck! Now? Kian thought in frustration interpreting that Samara, his current paramour, was reserving the rights to her body until he gave her what she wanted. Why did women always do this? One minute they’d be telling you they were okay with just being sex-buddies then a couple of weeks in they’d flip the script and leave you with a hard di
ck and nowhere to put it - again.
He sighed heavily as he sat back on his hunches. “Samara, we’ve talked about this.”
“If you want some more of this, you need to make a commitment,” she said as she also sat up. Her tits barely even jiggled with her movement. Those perky breasts were what had called him across the room three months ago and now he was paying for his lust.
“Look, Samara, you’re a great woman…” Kian’s words trailed off. He hated making this speech. It was the reason why he always explained what he wanted before he got in deep with any woman – nothing but a mutually beneficial sexual relationship. However, Samara was looking at him expectantly so he continued, “…but if you’re looking for a relationship, let me not waste your time. Just tell me so I can step.”
Samara must’ve seen that he was serious because her expression changed in an instant from demanding to sheepish. She wound her arms around his neck and pulled him down to the bed on top of her.
“I didn’t mean it that way, Shark,” she soothed using the name the media had branded him. “It’s just that everyone says we look so good together. I guess I just got caught up in it.”
Even with no makeup, Samara looked like the model she was; flawless chocolate skin, high cheekbones and long lithe body. If he was in the market for a relationship, she’d have made a good candidate. But he wasn’t. Relationships led to love and Hanna had cured him of that bullshit.
When she tried to kiss him, Kian pulled back to ask, “So you’re okay with us just being fuck-buddies?”
She laughed as she playfully nipped him on the nose, “Of course.”
“Cool.” With that sorted, he dipped his head down to kiss her. She tasted of the wine they’d had at the cocktail party he’d taken her to as his date for the night. Kian kissed his way down her body, nipping softly on the pebbled tips of her breasts before travelling down her stomach. She whimpered when his lips touched her shaven mound before delving in with his tongue to please her.
Kian prided himself on being a generous lover. After all, they always took their time to satisfy him; the least he could do was make sure they had a mind exploding experience. It took no time at all to have Samara writhing on the bed, her head tossing and turning on the white silk sheets while her hand dug into his scalp. When her walls began to contract around his inserted fingers, he increased his pace until she ruptured with a hoarse cry.
