by Hazel Gower
Caveman Instincts Book Four
By Hazel Gower
© 2018 Hazel Gower
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, copied or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without written expressed permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is purely coincidental.
Cover Design: Sinfully Sweet Designs https://www.facebook.com/SinfullySweetGraphicDesigns/
Formatting: SK Designs-http://sexykittendesigns.com/
The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows, and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as advertisement. Trademark names are used in an editorial fashion with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or if it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and please purchase your own copy.
The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows, and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as advertisement. Trademark names are used in an editorial fashion with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or if it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and please purchase your own copy.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior express, written consent of the author.
This book is intended for mature adults only. Contains sexual content and language that may offend some. Suggested reading audience is 18 years or older. I consider this book as Adult Romance. If this isn’t your type of book, then please don’t purchase it.
My family was given gifts for helping a group of gypsies. One of them was the ability to know your soulmate instantly. From what I’ve seen, it can be more of a curse, as once you find your mate, you turn into a possessive caveman. I’ve found my soulmate, beaten, battered, and bruised. As I nurse her back to health she clings to my side. My family thinks this is why the bad part of the gypsy gift hasn’t affected me. I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I didn’t realize how good I had it until I lost it all. Mason found me when I needed him the most. From the moment I saw him, he has been my knight in shining armor. He takes the time to get to know me, to let me be myself again. Settling into my new life, Mason tells me I’m his soulmate and the only one meant for him. I want to keep living the dream I’ve built with him, but I’ll have to fight my demons eventually and I don’t want to drag him along.
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT
BLURB
TABLE OF CONTENTS
DEDICATION
NOTE
TRIGER WARNING
FAMILY TREE
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
MORE BOOKS BY HAZEL
EXCEPRT FROM S. VAN HORNE
To my fans, thank you for reading my books and eagerly awaiting every one of them.
This book is set in Australia. In Australia the legal age to drink, vote, get married and so on is eighteen. The characters speak English Australian, so if you see the word ‘Arse’ instead of ‘Ass’ it’s because that’s how we say it in Australia where the book is set. If you find a word you haven’t heard before, look it up or message me I’d be happy to talk to you.
Also, the graphic used for the breaks in the story (see image below) is the gypsy symbol for love.
Thanks for looking and I hope you reading my book.
Hazel Gower
This book contains violent themes and may be a trigger for some people. Please contact me for more information.
I BOUNCED ON THE BALLS of my feet due to my excitement. It was the day before my birthday, and Mum, Dad, and Grandma were coming to pick me up from school early so we wouldn’t miss our flight to Cairns, Queensland. For my thirteenth, we were going to see the Great Barrier Reef. I loved the ocean and all its wildlife. I’d been begging my parents to take me for as long as I could remember.
They were late. I’d been pacing the office waiting area for the last hour and was starting to worry that we would miss our flight. Any time the office door opened, I’d turn with a beaming smile ready on my face for my family, but they hadn’t come. The office ladies left me be, happy with the note and the phone call they said they received from my mother that morning.
I wished I had a mobile to play with or call them and check while I waited, but my parents were strict and wouldn’t let me have one until I’d finished high school. They thought they were a distraction. My best friends Emma and Lisa let me use theirs, but they were in class.
The longer I waited, the heavier my stomach got, and my body started to shake. My mind conjured so many reasons why they were late; they’d changed their mind about going, they went without me. I knew I was overreacting and they’d probably gotten caught up with something with my grandma or were in traffic or something like that.
When the bell rang for the end of school and my parents were still a no-show, I hesitantly approached the office desk. My whole body shook as I mumbled out through sobs, “Um, my parents haven’t come and I don’t have a mobile, could I please phone them?”
Ethel, an office lady in her late fifties smiled at me. “Sure, honey. Here.” She pushed the phone to me. “Press one to get a line out.”
I nodded and reached for the phone, pressing the one before putting in my mother’s mobile number. It rang until I was sure it would go to voicemail, but then a voice I hadn’t heard before answered.
“Hello.”
“Um, hello. I’m sorry, but I was sure I called my mum’s phone. Irene Jennings.”
“This is her phone. I’m detective Ryder Silverman. May I ask your name and where I can send officers to pick you up, please?”
I dropped the phone and backed away, unwilling to listen anymore. I knew. I could feel it from the bottom of my toes to the top of my head. I heard what sounded like a dying animal as I sank down onto the ground and wished a hole would open and swallow me up, and bury me in its depths. The screaming didn’t stop and it wasn’t until officers in their blue uniforms showed up that the noise stopped and I realized the deafening noises were me.
Hours later I sat stoic in the hospital waiting room with my best friend E
mma Littman’s arms wrapped around me. Her mother and father sat with us, listening to the detective I’d spoken to and the doctors that told them that my whole family had been murdered in a robbery gone wrong. They droned on, but I zoned out when I learned I had no one. I was broken and my world would never be the same.
My thirteenth birthday was forgotten as funerals were arranged. I was allowed to stay with the Littman’s until the funeral was over, but after that I was put into foster care. That was where my world, if possible, seemed to get worse. I tried. I promise I did. The family I was placed with was great until their twenty-three-year-old son dropped out of university overseas and came back to live with them, plunging me into a nightmare. I learned that little blondes with bright green eyes were very desired. I ran away three times, but was found and brought back. The third time they placed me with a new family, but when the mother started to beat me because I didn’t clean something the right way, I ran.
Fourth times the charm.
safe
/sāf/
adjective
free from harm or risk
secure from threat of danger, risk, difficulty
I PEEKED AROUND THE CORNER and watched Stacy as she fought the two rough looking guys grabbing her and then shoving her into the van. Stacy wasn’t a friend of mine. She’d taken a blanket and even food from me before, but what I was seeing wasn’t what she deserved. I spotted others in the van and I knew something wasn’t right. I studied the men. I was sure I’d seen one of them before, and I definitely remembered the vest they wore with the bike and huge crown over it. I squinted in the evening light and was sure it reads ‘The Devil’s Queens.’
Oh shit! I needed to get the hell out of there.
I backed up against the wall, and as I turned, I accidently knocked a stupid coke can. Argh! I hate people who littered! I hope they don’t hear me!
“What the hell? Did you hear that? Go check it out.”
I ran.
“You go,” a deep voice yelled back.
“Fine. Deal with this?”
I didn’t hear anything else because I was running for my life. I ran, and I didn’t look back. Why did I need to be such a sticky beak? Why couldn’t I have just stayed hidden instead of trying to see what was going on?
When I saw the main road ahead I thought I’d gotten away, but I was grabbed from behind by large beefy arms that squeezed so tight I was sure I heard something crack. I fought. I clawed. I scratched and kicked and screamed at the top of my lungs. I felt his grip slip and the rip of my clothes before I bolted and hid. I was a good hider.
When it was quiet I got out of my hiding spot and ran, and this time I knew the best place to hide. I found my hidden sack and made my way to my spot, the place that always made me feel safe.
I gripped my clothes together, I didn’t have time to change because I needed to get to my safe place. Once there I could change and take a look at the damage to my body. I was so focused on getting to where I needed to go, I missed them coming out of the shadows ahead of me. They weren’t in uniform, but I knew they were cops; I’d seen them before.
Solid arms wrapped around my waist and dragged me against a big body. “Don’t resist arrest.”
I knew they wouldn’t take me into the precinct. If they took me away I was going to where I’d seen those girls. Images flashed before me of what I’d seen when I’d spied the houses and warehouses. I was not going to let that happen to me. Shutting the images behind doors in my head, I locked them and thought of my family to calm myself.
The guy’s partner came toward us and it was now or never. I let myself go limp, becoming a dead weight for a moment, and then I stiffened and threw my head back with everything I had.
His grip on me loosened and I slipped free. “Fuck. You stupid bitch! I’m gonna kill you.”
The back of my head throbbed and I stumbled away but missed seeing the guy aiming his knee at my chest. Screaming in agony, I crawled on the ground and tried to shield myself from the second kick as I rolled, but it hit my side.
Searching for something to grip, I found a branch and held it tight. I started to stand and when they came at me I swung it around. The officer I headbutted got the full impact and fell to the ground, out cold.
“You. Are. Dead. There’s nowhere you can run we won’t find you,” the other officer growled.
Blocking out his voice I charged him, and as he went for the branch, I let it go and kneed him in the balls, turned, and ran.
The gym that had security all around had one weak spot that I snuck past and got to my hiding spot. It was my place. I knew not even those crooked cops would follow me there.
My box was still where it always was and as I tried to take a calming breath in, I cried out in pain. I fell to the ground, my adrenalin gone and with it any strength I had left. But as I crawled to my box, a calm washed over me and a feeling of belonging settled in as I gave in to the pain and closed my eyes.
I AWOKE ON A GASP of agony as the wind whistled by my alcove. I huddled back against the cardboard box as I shivered with the cold. The pain clouded my vision, but I needed to stay awake, if only for a moment or two. I tried not to think of how my life had changed so quickly in the last four, almost five years, but as the cold wind bashed against my flimsy home and my teeth chattered, my ribs and leg hurt from the fights I’d gotten into when I’d seen what I shouldn’t have. It only got worse when I ran to my safe hiding spot. I’d failed at keeping to the shadows and not being seen when I left the first hiding spot, and I’d almost been caught by the police. I’d learned early on that they just wanted to put me back into foster care or worse. I didn’t want to think about those cops but now, cold and alone, my mind couldn’t stop the flood of memories of how I’d gotten here. Me on my thirteenth birthday waiting at school. The only nice cops I ever remembered. And then, the foster homes. I gripped the doors in my head, not wanting them to open, but between the cold and the pain, I couldn’t keep them shut and she popped into my head.
I washed the last of the dishes and gave it to Dorthey, who was ten and another foster kid. She went to put it away and it slipped from her fingers. I darted my gaze around for the dust pan and brush but before I could tell Dorthey to run, the evil woman was on us.
Dorthey was the closest to her and as she went to hit Dorthey with the broom, I grabbed it and she turned it on me. I screamed, “Run!”
The broom came down on me over and over and I tried to push the older woman away, but she was a big lady. “You ungrateful little bitch,” she yelled as the handle of the broom came down on me again and again. “I take you all in when nobody wants you and this is how you repay me?”
I fought back, kicking and punching. Her cackle of laughter as I missed hurt more than some of the blows.
When her feet joined in, I crawled to the broken plate, grabbed a shard and jabbed it into her foot with the little strength I had. I got up and ran, but I didn’t get far. I never got far.
I shivered as I came out of my memories and winced as my ribs made themselves known. I’d been on the streets for almost two years straight without being taken back into foster care. I only had five more months before my eighteenth birthday. How I looked forward to walking into the Centrelink office and getting my life back! I moaned at the thought of buying warm, clean clothes, showering, and washing my hair.
The shelters around here were good—if you could get to one safely without a gang trying to grab you—and I tried to stay within fifteen minutes walking distance of the largest. They were busy, and filled within half an hour of opening. I tried to get in because I got to have a proper shower without having to worry someone would jump me. I’d learned that a young girl on her own wasn’t safe and not to trust anyone. I wasn’t safe even when I should have been at my foster homes, but on the streets at least I could fight back and run and hide. I was good at hiding.
This spot I had was one of the best hiding spots. I knew that a lot of the other homeless teenagers and adults I
met were scared of this place with all the security that surrounded it and because of some rich person’s name attached to it, but not me. It was strange. For some reason I always felt safe here. I’d always been drawn to this place, not just because of the secure feeling I got when I was near it, but because it calmed me, and wrapped me in a cocoon of warmth. It was a massive gym, with a rough fighting style look on one side, and a more leisurely feel on the other side with a pool. It was an odd U shape and in the middle of the U were the bins where I now made my home.
My teeth chattered with the cold, but I knew I would be almost frozen if I ventured out of my little corner. I should have gone to the hospital. At least I would have been looked after and if I didn’t tell them anything they usually kept the police or any child services away.
My legs ached and it was hard to breathe, but I couldn’t dwell on my pain. I was grateful that I lived in Brisbane and it didn’t ever get cold enough to snow, but at one in the morning in winter when you lived in a box in a corner nook, it was freezing. I snuggled into the thin blanket I was given the last time I got into the shelter, groaned, and I was sure I could hear my ribs creak. Closing my eyes, I promised myself I’d go to the hospital in the morning.
I WAS TIRED. IT WAS two-thirty in the morning and I really should’ve just let my staff throw the trash into the large bins outside, but I only had one other person on at this time and he was basically there as security since the gym was open twenty-four hours.
The night was a chilly one and I was sure it was one of the coldest nights so far this winter. The two massive metal bins blocked the little middle that made the building a U shape. The night was quiet. Except for the cold wind, all you could hear was the crickets. This side of town didn’t see any action. The homeless from the shelter stayed well away from me and my security. My bodyguard had gone to get the car while I did the bins. He knew I could take care of myself and my family hadn’t had any trouble in a while.
