by Nicole Casey
“You look terrified,” Jude whispered. “Take a deep breath.”
I shook my head and peered out onto the stage, inhaling sharply as he drew me into his arms, smiling that now-familiar grin at me. It should have steadied my nerves but if anything it made me more anxious.
“You do it,” I breathed. “I -I can’t.”
“What do you mean?” Jude demanded, peering down at my face in shock. “This is what we’ve been working toward for two years! Of course you can – and you will!”
I lowered my head mournfully, a thousand doubts flooding through me. They weren’t out there for me, they were out there for Jude. I wasn’t Juniper Jane anymore, I had no following of my own. Jude had gained notoriety in his own right, branching out from No Excuse to go solo while we raised the twins.
I had been grateful to step out of the spotlight for a time, the taste of my sell-out personality still leaving an acrid taste in my mouth.
When had I ever made a decision and stuck to it? What was I doing there?
“You’re second-guessing yourself again,” Jude murmured as the din from the club outside swelled. “You’re overthinking.”
My mouth parted to argue but he knew me too well. He could read my distress all over my face.
“You go out first,” I insisted. “Warm them up at least.”
“No.”
The word was flat and firm.
“Please, Jude? I – I think I made a mistake thinking I could do this. I’m a mom now, soccer parent and – ”
“And you’re a sister, a friend, my soulmate and my muse,” he murmured, his emerald eyes boring into mine, dispelling all my fears as we shut the world out. “If it wasn’t for you, no one would even know my name, Gen.”
I felt myself relaxing, losing myself in the warmth of his hypnotic tones. He always knew just what to say, what to do to alleviate my crazy when it crept in on me.
I liked to think I did the same for him.
“You need to focus on me, just like we rehearsed,” he told me, his words even, as if he was singing them to me. “We aren’t here, we’re in the trailer, pouring over sheet music. We’re wrapped up in each other with the guitar. Close your eyes and picture it.”
Inhaling shakily, I did what he suggested and the noise from beyond the stage faded away.
Suddenly, I was in the trailer but not recently. I was there in those early days, before the twins, before the heartbreak. We were laughing and struggling to find the right lyrics, making up silly words that didn’t fit. There was a box of cold pizza and the scent of our lovemaking lingering around us.
In my mind’s eye, the scene shifted and I saw Jude, lifting Cheyenne over his head, spinning her around like a helicopter as Wyatt squealed for his turn and then we were all staring at our new house in Baton Rogue, the four of us huddled beneath the loblolly pines, the scent of gardenias wafting up from the garden to meet my nose.
Slowly, I opened my eyes and smiled at him, realizing that what he said was true. So much had changed since we had first met. My priorities were different now but my heart was still very much the same. There was room enough for my love of family and my love of music.
Jude had given me everything I ever wanted, proven here as the crowd outside waited for us to make our debut.
“There she is,” he chuckled, noting the relief in my eyes. “Crisis averted?”
“Yes,” I breathed. “I’m ready.”
He nodded, clasping my hand and tugging me through the wings.
As the curtain cleared my face, we met with the band onstage and a roar of approval greeted us. Instantly, my eyes fell on familiar faces at the front of the packed club and my pulse quickened again to make me lightheaded.
“What are they doing here?” I cried as Jude led me to the mics. He grinned boyishly and waved at Elsa and the others who seemed bursting with pride sandwiched between a mass of adoring fans.
“They’re here for you, obviously,” he whispered back and I was speechless with gratitude. They were all there, Jake, Marybeth and her husband, Charlie, Carrie and her boyfriend. I hadn’t called them. I didn’t want them to see if I failed on our first night before a live audience. This wasn’t YouTube. This wasn’t a series of “likes” and trolls. This was the real deal. We would know if we had what it took as a couple, if I had what it took at Geneva Rousseau, not Juniper Jane.
But I was so glad they had taken the trip to LA, knowing that finding sitters and taking time off work couldn’t be easy for them. I couldn’t believe that Jude had called them, knowing they still had not forgiven him, even after all that time.
“Ladies and gents,” Jude called. “Thank you all for coming to our debut live show.”
Hoots and cheers followed his announcement but Jude held up his hand, peering at me through his peripheral vision.
“Some of you know me,” he continued as the din settled slightly. “Most of you know my beautiful girlfriend and mother of my children, Geneva.”
My heart almost exploded with outpouring of screams which ensued and I blinked quickly, overcome by emotion as I saw that they really were there for both of us.
“We’ve been through a lot together,” Jude continued, his voice carrying somehow, despite our fans’ vocal adoration. “A lot of crazy shit, in fact, most of it mine.”
Appreciative laughter.
“So,” Jude said, turning toward me, his eyes gleaming with love. “I wrote this for Geneva because, without her, I’d be nothing but a wasted soul, strumming through life without purpose.”
He reached for his guitar and strapped it over his shoulder, playing lightly as the bassist found his line.
This wasn’t part of the show and I stood, watching him curiously.
“What are you doing?” I mouthed, my brow furrowing in confusion but he was focussed on the song which I had never heard.
“You held me together even when I was gone,” he sang, a sweet, melancholic tune flowing through me. “You gave me the strength to carry on.”
A lump formed in my throat as a few light whoops escaped the patrons.
“I never knew was missing in my life…”
Our eyes met and I couldn’t stop a single tear from sliding down my cheek when he dropped to his knee and beamed up at me, a gasp emanating from my lips.
“But I know now that I need you for my wife…”
I didn’t hear anything else as I knocked him to the stage, smothering his face with kisses, the shock of the moment overwhelming me. I didn’t need to hear anything else.
Jude laughed as I straddled him, his father’s guitar still pressed between us as I finally lifted my head to stare at him. There was no one else there even though I could hear the insanity from somewhere above me.
“Is that a yes?” he asked and I laughed, full streaks of tears streaming my face as I nodded.
“Of course it’s a yes,” I whispered, leaning forward to kiss his lips. “Are you sure this is what you want? I mean – ”
“Am I sure that I want to grow old with you, the mother of my children, my inspiration and the best thing that ever happened to me? Yes, I’m sure.”
“We’ve – we’ve just never talked about it,” I murmured. “Why now?”
“Because, Gen, the thought of ever being without you makes me sick inside. I was away from you and our babies long enough and whatever ride we’re about to embark upon, here, tonight, I want to do it unified.”
“Would y’all say yes already and get the show started?” Marybeth yelled onto the stage, breaking the bubble around us.
I turned to glare at her playfully.
“I already did!” I called back.
“Whoo hoo!”
“Come on,” I laughed, reluctantly climbing off him. “We better start the show before they start throwing tomatoes.”
We stood but I couldn’t resist sneaking in one last kiss before claiming my mic. Our time had come finally and no matter what happened that night or any other, we wouldn’t be apart again.
>
“Let’s do this!” Jude cried and the drummer kicked off our first song together with a smash of the cymbals.
Yes, I thought happily. Let’s do this thing called life. Together.
- The End -
Acknowledgments
Thank you for taking the chance to read my book. I hope you have enjoyed reading this book as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it.
If you’d like, please leave a review for the book. Your support really means a lot and keeps me going. Don’t miss the sneak peek of the first book of my best-selling dark romance trilogy: Her Beast. Enjoy!
Nicole
Sneak Peek: Her Beast - A Dark Romance
Beauty and the Captor Book 1
Blurb:
A dark beast. A disenchanted beauty…and a dangerous game of lust that she can’t resist.
Derek
Beautiful. Pure. Flawless.
The girl made my body burn with lust.
I'm the monster from her nightmares.
And Scarlett?
She’s still an innocent, naive, and uncorrupted doll.
She’s about to lose everything.
She just doesn’t know it yet.
Scar
Captured. Taken. About to be Broken.
That was when my life changed forever.
Forced into a world full of darkness and terror.
Where there is no sight. Where there is no sound.
Only a dangerous and beautiful beast in the dark.
He is punishing me for every mistake I make.
He is training me, preparing me for what’s going to happen next.
Slowly, my body is learning to crave…
His dominant voice. His gentle touch. His acts of kindness.
It's hot and forbidden, but somehow...familiar.
And now, he is about to claim the one thing I am not ready to give…
My soul.
WARNING: Dark, dirty, forbidden, and hot as hell. This is a dark romance that contains captivity and scenes some will find disturbing. It is intended for mature audiences only.
**This is Part One of the BEAUTY AND THE CAPTOR Trilogy. It does end on a light cliffhanger but I promise it is so worth it!
Reading Order:
Her Beast (Beauty and The Captor Book 1)
Her Savior (Beauty and The Captor book 2)
Her Dom (Beauty and The Captor book 3)
Prologue
Derek
I’d done a good job. I acknowledged to myself as Senor Ruiz came to retrieve his latest acquisition. But I wasn’t proud. Marcos was proud; it was clear by the way his eyes glowed with approval. He patted me on the back as the other man took hold of the lead and led the product of weeks of mind-bending work out of the room. My work. Countless hours of work.
“This one was important, and I knew you wouldn’t let me down, son,” Marcos congratulated me as he motioned for a servant from across the room. “You never fail to impress me.”
The servant appeared at his side seconds later, holding open a box of Cuban cigars. Marcos selected two from the box and handed me one before striking a match to light mine and then his own. I inhaled deeply, savoring the familiar taste of a victory cigar. The earthy, tobacco flavor slid across my tongue as the pungent smoke perfumed the air.
As I’d grown into the life that had been laid out for me, I’d come to view Marcos in some shady area between friend and father. I remembered waiting for moments like these, anxious for my hard work to amount to something in his eyes. Years later, there was none of that eagerness now, but a quiet hum of satisfaction nonetheless.
As Senor Ruiz made his way down the long hall, I couldn’t help but watch the symbol of my success. Her hips swayed as she crawled gracefully down the hall, her head down and her body naked except for the leather collar around her slim neck. She hesitated for just a moment as she reached the door, and I felt the familiar tightening in my gut. She’d performed flawlessly for the past two weeks, and I hoped she wasn’t reverting to old habits. But with a swift tug on the leash attached to her collar, she crawled out the door, and I lost sight of her.
Yes, I’d done a good job. The girl had been stubborn and prideful the day she’d been brought to me, but not anymore. Now, she would make an ideal slave for her new master. I breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t only the embarrassment of her slipping up that had worried me, but rather, after so long working with this one, I’d long since tired of her. I was ready for a new challenge, something that would send more than an innate sizzle of arousal through my veins.
It wouldn’t last long. It never did. One slave was no different from the next, even in the early days before they were conditioned for sale. They fought and they pleaded, but quickly they gave up the fight, allowing me to mold them into precisely what they needed to be.
“You were built to command, my son,” Marcos said, drawing my attention back.
I wasn’t built for this, some part of me wanted to shout. But the truth of the matter was…I was. I’d watched the other men working with the slaves for years, and not even the most experienced of them had acquired complete domination over a spineless, young girl in the time it had taken me to turn the obstinate daughter of Marcos’ biggest rival into an adept slave.
“And in celebration of your success, I have a surprise for you,” he continued, draping his arm around my shoulder and leading me down the hall to his office.
I didn’t like surprises. Surprises meant unexpected, and I liked to know what to expect. Still, I confess I was mildly curious. Marcos’ body seemed to be thrumming with anticipation.
Once inside his office, he placed a file folder down on the desk and motioned for me to take it. Another job? Another slave? This wasn’t my idea of a surprise, but I opened up the folder to see what was inside. And then I saw the photo lying on top of a neat stack of papers. My stomach clenched and my rusted heart thudded heavily in my chest. It was him—the man who had taken everything from me. James Donovan.
“Where is he, Marcos?” I was no longer tired. I was primed, ready. An old rage pulsed through my veins and my fingers shook with impatience. I could feel the cold steel of the Glock in my hand, hear the grind of steel against steel as I cocked it. I could even envision Donovan’s face in that split second before the bullet tore through his body. I’d longed for this moment and I’d waited for so long.
“No, Derek.”
“No? What do you mean no?” Why the hell was he dangling the man in front of me just to deprive me of the vengeance that was, by right, mine?
“I mean, I am not going to let you rush into this hastily. It will be over too quick, and you’ll be left with nothing but the bitter taste of disappointment. Your revenge cannot be swift.”
I wanted to argue with him. I’d wanted Donovan dead for so long, the idea of postponing the kill even a minute longer felt almost unbearable. But Marcos was right. I wanted him dead, yes, but I also wanted him to suffer. I’d regret acting on impulse, no matter how strong that impulse was.
I took a deep breath, hoping the smoke-tinged air would somehow infuse my body with even a modicum of the calm I’d felt just moments ago. “What did you have in mind, Marcos?”
“James Donovan’s wife is dead, but he has a daughter. And you, Derek, have a very unique set of skills.”
Hmm. Well, it wasn’t the most original plan—since it was the exact same method of revenge Marcos had used on his own rival, but it was effective. Take the thing of most importance to a man and make him watch as you broke it and transformed it into a shell of what it once was.
I’d already known Donovan had a daughter. Even twelve years later, I could vaguely remember the feisty little redhead with eyes that were too big for her face and a chip on her shoulder. If there was any of that girl left in her now, she’d pose an even bigger challenge than the last slave. But there were few things in life better than a good challenge.
“You know where she is?” I asked though I was already certain he did.
Marcos nodded.
“I want to get a look at her, and then I’ll send Vito and Alejandro to pick her up.”
“I think you’re making a wise decision, my friend,” he said, patting me on the back once again.
A short flight, and an even shorter drive later, I sat in a nondescript Lexus across from a dilapidated looking park. The girl would be turning the corner onto the street any minute—like she did every day at precisely 8:45 in the morning on her way to work—according to Marcos’ carefully gathered intel.
Fuck me, I breathed, as she turned onto the street. The hair was the same—a fiery auburn that put copper redheads to shame—but everything else about her had changed. She was tall, and though the shapeless coat and clothing she wore did nothing to accentuate it, it was obvious she was slim. She moved with a kind of grace I hadn’t seen before, and the gentle sway of her hips beneath her bulky clothing had me following her every movement, like the hypnotizing swing of a pendulum.
As she came closer, I could see that her oval face had lost all traces of its childhood pudginess, and her eyes, though larger than the typical woman’s, fit into the delicate features of her face perfectly. Something about the look in her eyes though told me she was lost, not geographically, but as if part of herself was missing. She looked in-need, though nothing about her made her appear needy.
I fought the sudden urge to get out of the car. I wanted to take her back with me now. I wanted to bend her. Shape her. Make her needy for nothing but the will of her master. But I stayed where I was. The plan had been set, and I wouldn’t deviate from it in my haste to have this beauty.
She would come soon enough.
Chapter 1
Scarlett
I skimmed through the photos as they came out of the film-developing-machine. I was supposed to flip through them quickly and then shove them in an envelope for our customers, but I never did that. I liked the pictures because no one ever took snapshots of the sad moments in their life. It was always the happy memories caught on camera.
