EVANESCE
Copyright ©2015 Cassia Brightmore
Evanesce is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading and sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
First eBook edition: June 2015
Kindle Edition
Edited: Ellie McLove
Cover design: © L.J. Anderson at Mayhem Cover Creations
Stock Photography: Arman Zhenikeyev & Louis W
Information address: [email protected]
DEDICATION
For my Mom.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
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
Epilogue
The Darkness Series
Acknowledgements
About the Author Cassia Brightmore
PROLOGUE
Despair is a complicated emotion. It can spiral you down into the depths of hell. Drain the life from your soul slowly; feast on your goodness. When all has been lost, when the one thing you loved most in this world is cruelly ripped from your arms—will you sink into the black abyss or step into the blazing flame of revenge?
Rage can be fuelled by many things, it has the power to give strength to the weak. Evil is real, it feeds on fear; will decimate even the strongest of wills. When faced with a choice, will you succumb into submission or will you fight to survive; fight for the lives of those you love?
CHAPTER ONE
Brooke Spencer snatched her keys from her purse and headed to the front door of her office. Locking up the dentistry practice she co-owned with her partner, Dr. Mills had never been a problem for her. The small town of Norton Springs, Texas wasn’t one that was prone to crime and even if it was, she was more than capable of taking care of herself after years of self-defense classes.
Stepping outside into the warm evening air, she pulled the glass door closed behind her and swiftly engaged the lock. Her black SUV was parked several feet away, a large car considering her family consisted of just herself and her “fur baby.” A large brown mutt she rescued from a shelter a few years earlier. Transporting him from place to place called for a large vehicle for them both to ride comfortably.
Her phone dinged in her purse, indicating an incoming email. Rummaging around in it from its awkward position on her shoulder, she pulled it free and opened the message. A small smile crossed her pink lips as she read the email from her partner detailing the next day’s patient appointments. Jimmy Holden was due to come in, he was an adorable eight year-old boy that she—
Whoosh. The air was knocked out of her as she was forcibly shoved from behind, her phone skittering out of her hands and landing a few feet away. She threw her arms forward to try to catch herself as the ground rushed up to meet her in a jarring greeting that shook her bones. What the fuck? Her instincts kicked in, causing her to quickly roll to one side, narrowly avoiding the glove-covered hand that reached for her. Shoving herself up to her knees, she tried to get a good look at her attacker. He was tall and built, his features were hidden behind the dark hoodie pulled low over his eyes. His movements were slow and practiced, giving Brooke the sickening feeling this wasn’t just a robbery.
“Get up, bitch,” he demanded, approaching her again. If Brooke had been watching this in a movie, she would have rolled her eyes at his ridiculous request. Like fuck I will, asshole. Spotting her keys just within arm’s reach, she lunged, hoping to catch her assailant off guard and grab her keys to use as a weapon. A moment of glee raced through her as her fingers closed around the jagged pieces of metal. Stars exploded behind her eyes, causing her to cry out as the man delivered a vicious kick to her back, rendering her useless as she face-planted onto the asphalt. “Fuck,” she mumbled around a mouthful of blood. Picturing her attacker smirking at her foolish attempt to gain the upper hand, anger rose in her, fast and furious.
The bigger they are, the harder they fall. Calling on her years of self-defense training, she kept her body very still as she listened carefully to his movements. Just as he leaned down to grab her, she rolled, her legs scissoring out with force. Catching him on the back of his knees was her goal and she hit it like a bulls-eye. The second he started to fall, she was gone. Scrambling to her feet, she ran. Finally remembering her voice, she screamed long and loud. “Heeelp! Someone! There’s a fire!” Reaching the door of her office, she yanked on the handle, cursing when it didn’t budge. The keys. Looking over her shoulder, she spotted them not far from where the man was slowly gaining his footing. Not wasting another second, she took off again, darting into the alley between her office and the next. Stupid, Brooke. Get the fuck out of this alley, fast. Cardboard boxes and dumpsters lined the street, a blur of objects as she ran past. Reaching the end, she chanced another look behind her, terror overtaking her when she spotted him just a few short feet behind her. His silence was unnerving. He didn’t yell at her to stop, he calmly pursued as if he knew her fate was sealed. His resolve pushed her to fight harder. Run, Brooke. Run for your life.
Racing to the right, she stumbled when the heel broke off her black satin pump. Yanking off the ruined shoes, she continued in just her stockings, ignoring the pebbles and God knows what else slicing into the soles of her feet. Spotting the small bakery door ahead on the left, she increased her speed—despite the burning in her lungs begging her to stop and rest. Mary. Mary would still be there, she always worked late on Tuesdays. Relief filled her when she reached the door and found it open. Hurrying inside, she slammed and locked the door. “Mary! Call the police! Quick, we need help!” The kind elderly woman rushed into the entrance.
“Brooke. What on earth…” her face showed her bewilderment and concern. Crossing to her, she sought to soothe. “Come. Sit down and tell me what happened.” She tugged on Brooke’s arm, trying to coax her into the bakery’s kitchen.
“No! You don’t understand. Call the police, Mary, please!” Brooke was frantic, the words coming out rushed. Time seemed to stop in that moment, there was a loud bang as the door was thrown open and bounced off the wall, the snapped lock hanging haphazardly from the door. A series of loud popping sounds followed, startling Brooke. She could only stare as Mary’s eyes widened in shock, and then filled with pain as she crumpled to the floor. Blood pooled beneath her where she lay, the life behind her eyes slowly draining away.
“Nooooo!” Reaching for Mary, she was yanked back and spun around to face the nightmare man. Trapped in his arms, she struggled—biting, kicking, scratching.
“Someone is expecting you, girl,” his cold voice informed her. Brooke had one quick moment to wonder who he was referring to before he brought the butt of his gun down across her face and everything went black.
* * *
Brooke squeezed her e
yes shut as she slowly came to. Peering into the pitch black nothingness, she struggled to sit up. “Shit,” she swore as her head collided with something hard. Rubbing it to relieve the sting, she tried to make sense of her surroundings. She was trapped in the fetal position—her legs had no room to stretch out and she couldn’t sit up. Oh fuck. Oh fuck! She was in a goddamn trunk. Panic overtook her as she struggled to roll over. She needed to find the brake light and kick it out. Every cop show she had ever watched always said, if you’re trapped in the trunk of a car—kick out the fucking brake light and wave for help.
Fumbling in the dark, she groped around the edge of the metal, relentless in her search for the light. “Come on, come on where is it.” Hysteria was threatening to take over, she needed to get out of the fucking trunk and she needed to do it now. Wherever this man was taking her, it wasn’t going to end well. At twenty-six, she was smart enough to know that being kidnapped and tossed into a trunk was not a good situation. Who the hell is this guy? And what did he mean that someone wants to see me? The thought of his last words to her brought Mary’s face to mind and she stifled a sob. She brought that man to her door and now the kind woman was dead. And it was her fault. Tears leaked out of her eyes as she replayed the scene. Brooke was now she was caught in his clutches, on her way to a very likely worse fate than poor Mary.
Her hand came across a groove in the metal and she could have cheered with joy. Thank fuck. I found it. She balled her hand into a fist, ready to smash it out and get the fuck out of her pitch black hell. The car screeched to a stop and she was thrown backwards, tearing a frustrated scream from her throat as she lost the chance she needed.
The car rocked as a door was opened and slammed shut. Straining her ears, she heard footsteps and then the telltale sound of a lock clicking as the trunk was flung open. Blinking rapidly, she curled into herself, determined to not make it easy on him to get to her. Noticing for the first time that he had pushed back the hood covering his face, she studied him. Her label of nightmare man hadn’t been far off the mark. His eyes were a cold black, his head completely clean shaven. A large tattoo covered the left side of his face and disappeared under his shirt.
The man smirked in amusement at the girl’s useless attempt to hide from him. She was in a fucking trunk, just where did she think she could go? Shaking his head, he reached in and grabbed her, pulling her out in one fluid motion. Ignoring her pleas and struggling, he held her close, appreciating the way her body fit to his. She was a pretty little thing, full of spirit and fight. It had been quite a while since he’d broken in a woman. He had a feeling this one would be exceptional in the sack. Maybe the boss will let me test out the merchandise…He dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. She was a prisoner of Marcus’s. He needed to give his head a shake and remember what happened to people that disrespected the boss.
“Let’s go,” he commanded and dragged her kicking and screaming towards the building. Raising his eyes towards the heavens, he prayed for patience. He would much rather knock her unconscious, however the boss wanted her unharmed and he was already going to be in shit for the bruise on her face from his gun. He couldn’t risk leaving any more marks on her that he would have to explain.
“Look, knock it off, girl. There’s nowhere to run.” He roughly dragged her through the door, kicking it shut behind him. He was completely caught off guard when she suddenly spun and kneed him squarely in the balls; following it up with a sharp elbow to his chin. Doubled over, he fought to catch his breath. Damn, this fucking bitch has balls. Glancing up, he watched her struggle to get the door open, which of course was impossible. This was Marcus’s kingdom and you didn’t escape his castle unless he gave you permission.
Grabbing her by the upper arm he pulled her away from the door, cursing when she struck out again, this time with a right hook that packed more punch than he would have expected. “That’s it. Fuck this shit,” his temper snapped. Fuck the consequences, he was going to be the one carrying marks now and from a fucking girl, no less. Yanking her by the hair, he dragged her down the hall, ignoring her pleas to let her go.
“You can’t play nice, girl, well I’m done fucking around.” Fucking stupid cunt.
Gasping for breath against the pain of her hair being ripped from her scalp, Brooke twisted and bucked, trying without avail to free herself from the strong arms dragging her down the dark hallway. At the end of that hall, who knew what awaited her. Reaching that destination was not an option. She knew in her gut she would never see the light of day again if he reached his goal.
Without warning, he tossed her effortlessly onto the ground. Landing with a thud on the cold concrete she was momentarily dazed. Run! she screamed at herself before scrambling onto her hands and knees. Just as she was about to sprint—he let out an amused chuckle.
“Don’t be stupid, girl.” He grabbed her ankle and with no mercy, dragged her through a steel doorway.
“No-o!” she bellowed, her fingernails fighting for traction on the hard cement. She didn’t even feel two of them rip from their nail beds.
Once they were inside, he barely tossed a glance in her direction before he slammed the heavy door, the click of the lock sealing her fate in hell.
Panting, tears racing down her cheeks, she fought the panic. Don’t give up yet, Brooke.
“No sense in crying. Do you no good.” Yelping, Brooke spun around at the sound of a woman’s hoarse voice. Peering into the darkness, she could just make out a small figure huddled in the corner. Cautiously, she approached.
“Who-o are you? Can you help me? We need to find a way out!” she stammered. Why was this other woman just sitting there?
The woman let out a dry laugh. “‘Ain’t no escapin’. They come. They drag you out over and over until you give them what they want. And then….” she broke off.
Brooke sank to her knees in front of the other woman. Her eyes having adjusted to the dark, she could see that the woman was just a lifeless shell. Her skin hung off her bones, her fingers barely moving in her shackles. “And then?” she prodded. Fear was a slick feeling sliding down her back, seeping into her bones. She dreaded the answer, yet couldn’t stop herself from asking.
“And then they take the most precious thing we women have. They take the tiny lives.”
Confused, Brooke stared at her. The tiny lives? She couldn’t mean…
The low whisper confirmed any mother’s worst fear. “They take our babies.”
Light filtered into the dirty, dank room. Opening her eyes, Brooke stared up at the ceiling. She was lying on her back in a small gray concrete room. There was no furniture, unless you counted the chains encircling the other woman’s wrists. She must have fallen asleep at some point, exhausted from her ordeal; her fight to get free. Her mouth was dry, her tongue like sandpaper and she desperately wished for a glass of water.
“The first morning is the worst.” The woman spoke in a quiet, raspy voice. Turning her head to look at her, Brooke still couldn’t quite believe what she saw. Who the fuck were these people? Chaining people up in dungeons?
“What’s your name?” Brooke blurted out. If the woman was surprised at her question, she didn’t show it.
“Names don’t matter here. Nothing matters here.” The dull tone of her response had Brooke getting up and approaching her with caution. Kneeling in front of her, she took the time to really study the woman. Her green eyes were dull, no spark in them at all. Eyes that had probably been bright with life, with hope, not that long ago. Her short red hair was matted and stuck to her forehead and she had a smell that indicated it had been quite a while since she had been given bathroom privileges. Still, none of that stopped Brooke from reaching out and squeezing her hand.
“Hey. Listen to me. I don’t know how yet, but I will get us out of here. I promise you. We will be free and going back to our old lives in no time. I promise.” The woman scoffed and looked away.
“Getting out of here ain’t an option. You don’t know anything.” She
swiped a hand under her nose and regarded Brooke with a cold stare. These new ones, always coming in here with their hope and their promises. Hope was a dangerous thing, it breathed life into fantasies that would never come true. They had no idea that such notions had no place in this hellhole. The only way either one of them was leaving was in a body bag. The best thing she could do for this new prisoner was to rid her of her foolish thoughts before it got her killed much sooner than usual.
“I ain’t your friend and I don’t want your help. Get the fuck back on your side of this goddamn cell.” At Brooke’s shocked expression, she ignored her conscience pulling at her and lashed out harder.
“What, you deaf, girl? Get. The. Fuck. Over. There.” She used what little strength she had to kick out with her left foot, catching Brooke on the shoulder and knocking her off balance. Panting, she forced herself to keep up the cold façade until Brooke slowly gained her feet and moved across the room. Good. Best she realize now she doesn’t have any friends in here.
Brooke sat in a silent shock at the other woman’s behaviour. She didn’t even know her name, since the conversation hadn’t gotten that far. It was clear the woman wanted nothing to do with her and she wasn’t about to beg for attention like a clingy child. She’d form her own plan of escape and since Red could clearly care less about what she had to say, she’d leave her ass behind. Crossing her arms, she glared across the room. How dare she…
Catching herself, she relaxed. They were prisoners for fuck’s sake. Silent arguments weren’t the answer and were probably exactly what the sick bastards that had taken them wanted them to do. A clever distraction technique, but not one she was going to fall for. Pushing Red’s bad attitude aside, she headed for the door to their cell. Studying it, she considered all the angles before she took her hand and ran it along the edges searching for any loose pieces of steel.
Evanesce (The Darkness #2) Page 1
