Evanesce (The Darkness #2)

by Cassia Brightmore

  “Nora Jacobs. You are a stunning woman. Captivating and infuriating, you have stolen my heart. From the first day I met you, I knew that we would have an epic destiny. You are never cease to amaze me or surprise me with what you’ll do next. You’ve taken your family’s ranch and restored it to the way it once was. You’ve met every goal you ever set for yourself and you’ve done it with class. I may have been a fool and left you once, but I’m ready to make up for that mistake and to start making all kinds of new ones. With you. As my wife, my partner, my best friend. There is no one else for me, Nora. You’re it. And it doesn’t hurt that you’re a fucking firecracker in bed.” Tears had been streaming down Nora’s face at his words but with that last comment she let out a shout of laughter and hit him on the arm.

  Taking the little blue box from his pocket, he opened it and showed her the stunning diamond ring inside. “Please will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? There is nothing in this world I want more.”

  Nora’s hands were shaking as she pulled the ring out of the box. It was a stunning white gold princess cut, her favorite. Her heart was bursting with love for this man. He was a precious gift, and he was going to be hers forever.

  “Well, I think that Ricardo would have picked out a much better ring,” she said with a straight face and nonchalant tone. Gabe blinked at her before letting out his own boom of laughter.

  “Come here, you little vixen,” he demanded and pulled her onto his lap. Laughing, their lips crashed together in a searingly hot kiss.

  “You better give me an answer before you get another spanking, baby,” he warned between kisses.

  “Maybe that’s what my plan is,” she teased. Pulling back, she looked deep into his eyes. “Gabe, you’re a complete moron most of time, but you’re also this strong, protective, smart man. And sexy as hell. My answer is…” she trailed off.

  Gabe stared at her, starting to sweat. She better say yes. If she says no, I’m throwing her over my shoulder and fucking a yes out of her.

  “Yes! I will be your wife!” she exclaimed. Gabe let out a whoop and stood, swinging her around in his arms. Placing her back on her feet, he slid the ring on her finger with ease.

  “It’s perfect,” she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes again. “I wish my Grandma was here to see this,” she told him. “She would have been so proud of the man you’ve become, Gabe. And so happy for us. I miss her so much.” The sadness creeped in from nowhere, a thick fog that threatened to close her throat as it constricted with tears.

  “Hey, hey. Come on, baby. Your Grandma loved you, too. She wouldn’t want to see you sad today. She’d want to look down on you and see you smiling and happy that you’ve managed to get your hooks in the attractive boy next door.” Nora gave an unladylike snort. “More like she’d be telling me to keep your ass in line,” she fired back.

  Gabe smiled, happy to see the fire back in Nora’s eyes instead of the sadness that was there a moment before.

  “Let’s eat. This food my mo—er I, prepared is gonna get cold,” Gabe almost slipped but thought he recovered his fumble pretty well.

  They discussed possible wedding plans over their meal, Nora suggesting a simple wedding there at the ranch. Something in the spring when they could do the entire ceremony and reception outside without the pestering of too many bugs.

  Gabe agreed, he’d had a feeling she would want something similar for their ceremony. But the honeymoon, well he had something special planned for that to surprise Nora.

  Just before dessert, Nora stood and walked towards Shadow. She needed to tell Gabe about the baby now, before this night went any farther. If he didn’t want kids…well she would cross that bridge when she came to it. For now, she withdrew a box from Shadow’s satchel on the side of his saddle and returned to the table.

  Placing it on the table, she pushed it over to Gabe. “This is for you,” she told him, smiling at his shocked expression. “Go on, open it.”

  Gabe started at the blue box with the pink ribbon in puzzlement. Had he missed an anniversary? Did they have an anniversary? Fuck, he didn’t have a gift for her. Deciding that he’d use planning the proposal as his excuse if she called him on it, he tugged the ribbon off and opened the lid. Pulling the white tissue paper out of the way, he stared down at the box’s contents, confused. In amongst the paper lay one blue rattle and one pink rattle. Each had an identical note attached to the stem. Taking one of the rattles out, he read the note out loud.

  “Give ’em hell, little one. Love, Daddy.” Confused, he looked at Nora. She gave him a small, hesitant smile and then sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, a telltale sign that she was nervous. Why would she be nervous? And why give him a rattle…that said Daddy…oh shit.

  “I’m pregnant, Gabe. And I know this comes as a shock. I’m so sorry, I don’t know how it happened, but I love you and I already love this baby so much! But I don’t know. I understand if you don’t want to marry me now.” Nora babbled and then burst into tears, covering her face with her hands.

  Gabe sat back, shocked. Pregnant? They were going to have a baby? A slow grin spread across his face. Nora was going to have his child. Right now, she was sitting there, his child in her belly. Pride swelled up in him as he puffed out his chest. Realizing she was still sitting there crying, he hurried to her side.

  “Baby. Baby, stop. I’m thrilled. I’m so damn happy. How long have you known?” he asked gently.

  “A—about a month,” she hiccupped.

  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” The fact that she’d been dealing with the news on her own didn’t sit right with Gabe. But it did explain her mood swings as of late.

  “I was scared. Gabe, what if you leave me again? You don’t understand how bad that crushed me the last time. You literally turned my heart to dust, I couldn’t risk it happening again. I knew I couldn’t keep it a secret much longer. I’m already starting to show,” she pointed down to a tiny bump of a belly. “Just please, Gabe. If you don’t want this baby, tell me now. I realize I’ve sprung this on you, but I will not survive you leaving me behind a second time. Especially now that I have someone else’s life to think about,” she pleaded.

  Nora’s words gutted Gabe. The hurt that he caused her when he left would always been an unhealed wound, a thorn in the side of their bright future together. Frustrated with himself, he blew out a breath and counted to ten before answering.

  “Nora. Leaving you is my biggest regret. Did I have good reasons? Yes. Did I do it the right way? Absolutely fucking not. I promise you, I will never make that mistake again. I’m not letting you get away again and I’m damn sure not going to walk out on you and our baby. That’s my child you’ve got in there,” he placed a hand on her belly. “And I couldn’t fucking be any happier. Just please God, be a boy. Otherwise I’m in a hell of a lot of trouble with two Nora’s running around.”

  Nora flung her arms around his neck and whispered, “I love you. And I pray it’s a little girl, one that’ll wrap you right around her tiny finger.”

  “Even that would make me so happy, baby. Thank you for this gift. Now, Mrs. Thornton-To-Be, I’d like to take you home and fuck you senseless. If that works for you?” Gabe winked at her.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Ricardo.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Moving around was getting more and more difficult for Brooke. At seven months pregnant, she was miserable and felt like a whale. There were moments when she was fine, could walk from one end of her chamber to the other with no issue, but on some days—she could barely get out of bed. Exhaustion plagued her and pulled her down like a weight. Greta assured her it was all normal, just part of being pregnant but Brooke was convinced it had something to do with being cooped up all day long. If she had been home, she would have been active, joining Mommy Pregnancy Fitness groups and walking Molly every day. Since she was forced into confinement, she had been denied those opportunities, thus resulting in her physical exhaustion.

  After be
gging and pleading to see Marcus, he was supposed to finally come to see her that day, after months of absence. She wasn’t looking forward to seeing him per se, but she did want to push him one last time to let her and her baby go free. She had seen a glimpse of kindness in him once, she was hoping to find it one more time.

  The walks outside with Greta had continued, although only once a week for the damned forty-five minutes. Begging for the extra fifteen minutes to make it an even hour had got her nowhere and if it rained on the scheduled day they were allowed outdoors, she lost the privilege for that entire week. Depression was setting in and with it came its twin sister despair. Hope had abandoned her; she had started to accept that she would never be free from her prison. They police weren’t coming, Greg was never going to find her. This was her fate. To churn out babies for the sadistic monsters that would then turn around and sell them to the highest bidder.

  Moving to her dresser, Brooke opened the top drawer and pulled out the sock she had filled with rocks from the garden. Testing its weight, she was satisfied that if given the chance, it would pack one hell of a punch. She may have given up hope, but if anything changed and she could do some real harm to one of the fuckers holding her hostage—she was taking it.

  Her chamber door opened, but she didn’t turn around. Greta had yet to come in that morning, and Brooke knew it would be her entering to change her linens and try to coax her into eating a light snack. She gripped the sock tighter, wishing for something to smash.

  Hands gripped her waist roughly and she was spun around. Shocked filled her as she looked up into the hateful face of Milo.

  “What the fuck? What are you doing in here? Get out!” she yelled, furious at the intrusion. Milo ignored her and moved his hands up to cup her protruding belly. “Fuck. Even like this you’re still so fucking sexy. Been dreamin’ about your ass, whore. I want it again,” he told her, rubbing his hard-on against her leg.

  Disgust filled her as she flashed back to the day he violated her. Adrenaline gave her added strength and she pushed against his chest, pleased when she knocked him back a few steps. “No. Fuck you, asshole. Get the fuck out!” she screamed again.

  Milo rushed back and raised a fist, striking her on the cheek before she had a chance to raise an arm in defense. Crying out, she fell back, slamming into the dresser and he was on her. “Fucking cunt. Not as feisty now are you? I’m gonna slam my cock into that tight ass until you beg me for mercy.”

  Brooke struggled against him, desperate to be free. “No. No, don’t fucking touch me,” she cried. Milo laughed and lowered his head to place a slobbery kiss on her neck. “There’s no one to save you this time, bitch. No one knows I’m in here.”

  Brooke knew in her heart he was right. The guard at her door was clearly pre-occupied, or on Milo’s side. And Greta, well what could she even do? It was up to her to save herself this time. Milo grabbed her by the hair and dragged her by the hair and forced her face down onto the mattress. Struggling did no good, he was too strong for her as he held her arms pinned to her sides.

  “Fuck your skin is so soft,” he muttered as he dragged her maternity dress up her legs. Tears leaked from Brooke’s eyes as she realized he was about to rape her again unless she did something. Letting her body go lax, she faked submission. Hearing his moan as he swiped a finger across her pussy, Brooke forced herself to be patient. To lull him into thinking she had given up, that she was complacent. When he slipped a finger inside her, she tensed, but slowly relaxed, managing to clench around his finger.

  Brooke heard his buckle unsnap and then his cock was pushing against her ass, searching for entrance. Knowing she only had seconds, Brooke pushed him back with all her might, pumping her arms as though doing a push-up. Sensing Milo stumble back, she raised the sock full of rocks and brought it down over his head in full force. Catching his look of shock gave Brooke all the incentive she needed to continue. Blood spurted up at her, but she didn’t care, she brought the sock down again and again—ignoring Milo’s grunts of pain. When he was lying motionless on the floor, she ran quickly over to the small table and chairs set and grabbed one of the wrought iron chairs. Lifting it high over her head, she slammed it down onto Milo’s head, grunting from the exertion. Over and over again she hit him, until he lay unmoving. Panting, she tossed the chair aside and dropped to her knees.

  Running her hands through the blood coating his face, she relished in the feel of the warm, sticky liquid. He was dead; she knew it. He had come to harm her and she had beaten him at his own damn game. There was hope for her to get out of the house of horrors she was trapped in after all. Just try and hurt me now, you fuckers.

  * * *

  Brooke was trapped in her chambers with Milo’s body for longer than she would have liked. Refusing to wash his blood off her, she sat basking in it, in the fact that she had put an end to such a cold, sadistic monster. No woman would ever suffer at his hands again. She was to thank for that.

  Lying in bed, she didn’t move when the door opened. Or when Greta let out a scream of horror. She continued to lay still, pretending to be dead. She felt hands touch her face, her neck; feeling for a pulse. There was more screaming and voices and then strong arms lifted her from the bed. She had a vague awareness of being carried out of the room, but couldn’t bring herself to lift her head or to even care. She was broken, her life stolen and shattered. There was nothing left now but a husk of the person she used to be. She closed her eyes and let the darkness claim her.

  The light spilled over Brooke’s face, awakening her from her slumber. Blinking, she sat up, taking in her surroundings. She knew right away that she wasn’t in her bed in her chambers. Raising her head, she looked around, trying to make sense of where she was. A door squeaked and she looked over as Marcus exited what was likely an ensuite bathroom.

  Heading her way, he sat on the bed slowly, his eyes running over her face.

  “Hi, beautiful girl. How are you feeling?” He reached a hand out and stroked her hair, his face concerned.

  “I—I’m fine. I think. What happened? Where am I?” she asked, disoriented. Were they outside the house? Had he finally seen reason and decided to let her go? Her heart fluttered at the thought.

  “I brought you to my room. You had quite a trauma,” he explained, cupping her cheek. “I was too worried to leave you alone. Milo—well you obviously know that Milo will never be a problem for you again. As your employer, I apologize. He was unstable and I should have taken sterner actions against him after the first time he hurt you.” Marcus looked remorseful as he studied his hands in his lap.

  Brooke’s memory came rushing back and she remembered Milo breaking into her room, trying to force himself on her again.

  “I killed him,” she whispered, appalled. Marcus sighed, frustrated with the situation. He did not like it when his employees stepped out of line and Milo had broken every rule that he’d ever set. He should have been the one to end him; not the innocent Brooke.

  “Yes, that’s correct. But know this, Brooke. His life was forfeit the minute he disobeyed my rules. I would have given him a much worse exit from this world,” he told her, his voice cold.

  A part of Brooke was disappointed, as she believed Milo deserved a hell of a lot worse than the ending that he got. Sitting up, she studied Marcus’s face. It’d been months since she’d last seen him, his absence during her pregnancy instilled fear in her as she wondered what despicable deeds he had been up to. He still looked the same, handsome—a true devil in disguise. It was no doubt how he lured women into his lair.

  “Marcus,” she whispered his name. “Please. Please, let me and the baby go. I just want to give him or her a chance. A-a-a life,” she stuttered, her hands resting on her swollen belly.

  Marcus sighed and stood up from the bed, pacing. “Brooke. I’m afraid that isn’t an option. We have an agreement, and you are very close to holding up your end of the bargain. Letting you go would serve as no benefit to me.” His answer was final, absolute.
/>
  “Agreement?” Brooke swung her legs off the bed and moved to stand face-to-face with him. “We do not have an agreement! You kidnapped me, r-r-raped me, set that monster loose on me and you think that I agreed to all of that?” Tears of frustration appeared at the corners of her eyes, spilling over to track down her cheeks. “You think bringing me in here, out of the horror of what I did; you think that makes you some kind of hero? You are not some knight in fucking shining armor! You. You are the villain,” Brooke shouted at him, furious that he would think she was compliant in all that had happened to her, all that happened in the house from Hell.

  Marcus barely batted an eye at her tirade. Taking her hand, he pulled her along behind him, heading for the door.

  “That’s enough. You will go and have a rest before you get yourself too worked up.” Opening the door, the nodded to the guard stationed outside his room and he stepped forward, grasping Brooke by the upper arm.

  Brooke’s temper was in full swing as she dug in her heels on the carpet. “No. No! I am not going to be sent off to bed like a child because you didn’t like hearing the truth,” she yelled. Trying to pry the man’s fingers off her arm, she yelled again at Marcus’s retreating back. “Marcus! Marcus, don’t do this, please. Let me go home, you can just let me go home!”

  Marcus paused and turned back to look at her. His cold mask was back in place and there was no emotion behind his eyes. “Goodbye, Brooke.” The door shut with a click, the sound resonating through her as it sealed her fate.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The pain started in the pitch blackness of night. Rolling into her side, Brooke let out a low keening moan as the excruciating spasms ripped through her body.

  Changing positions did nothing to subdue the agonizing torture. Sitting up, she watched as ripples rolled across her swollen stomach. Bewildered, she stared in shock. “My baby,” she whispered as the realization that she was in labor set in.