Thorns of the Past
Page 1
Table of Contents
Synopsis
Praise for Gun Brooke’s Fiction
By the Author
Acknowledgments
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
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Epilogue
About the Author
Books Available from Bold Strokes Books
Thorns of the Past
Darcy Flynn, a former police officer in East Quay, works as a night guard and a private investigator. Framed for a bad shooting while on the force, she is set on finding out the truth about what happened.
Sabrina Hawk, a successful accountant with an impressive client list, still suffers the aftereffects from an assault during her college years. Victim-blaming on campus was bad enough, but she loathes the authorities for mistreating her.
Darcy notices Sabrina often works late, and the elegant blonde stirs her innate protectiveness. Sabrina finds herself able to relax around Darcy. A mutual attraction develops, but then Sabrina’s office is subjected to several break-ins. Wary of the police, she hires Darcy to investigate. Darcy fears Sabrina’s reaction once she learns Darcy was a cop—a cop who left the force in disgrace.
Praise for Gun Brooke’s Fiction
Fierce Overture
“Gun Brooke creates memorable characters, and Noelle and Helena are no exception. Each woman is “more than meets the eye” as each exhibits depth, fears, and longings. And the sexual tension between them is real, hot, and raw.”—Just About Write
Coffee Sonata
“In Coffee Sonata, the lives of these four women become intertwined. In forming friendships and love, closets and disabilities are discussed, along with differences in age and backgrounds. Love and friendship are areas filled with complexity and nuances. Brooke takes her time to savor the complexities while her main characters savor their excellent cups of coffee. If you enjoy a good love story, a great setting, and wonderful characters, look for Coffee Sonata at your favorite gay and lesbian bookstore.”—Family & Friends Magazine
Sheridan’s Fate
“Sheridan’s fire and Lark’s warm embers are enough to make this book sizzle. Brooke, however, has gone beyond the wonderful emotional explorations of these characters to tell the story of those who, for various reasons, become differently-abled. Whether it is a bullet, an illness, or a problem at birth, many women and men find themselves in Sheridan’s situation. Her courage and Lark’s gentleness and determination send this romance into a ‘must read.’”—Just About Write
Course of Action
“Brooke’s words capture the intensity of their growing relationship. Her prose throughout the book is breathtaking and heart-stopping. Where have you been hiding, Gun Brooke? I, for one, would like to see more romances from this author.”—Independent Gay Writer
September Canvas
“In this character-driven story, trust is earned and secrets are uncovered. Deanna and Faythe are fully fleshed out and prove to the reader each has much depth, talent, wit and problem-solving abilities. September Canvas is a good read with a thoroughly satisfying conclusion.”—Just About Write
Soul Unique
“This is the first book that Gun Brooke has written in a first person perspective, and that was 100% the correct choice. She avoids the pitfalls of trying to tell a story about living with an autism spectrum disorder that she’s never experienced, instead making it the story of someone who falls in love with a person living with Asperger’s. …Soul Unique is her best. It was an ambitious project that turned out beautifully. I highly recommend it.”—The Lesbian Review
The Supreme Constellations Series
“Protector of the Realm has it all; sabotage, corruption, erotic love and exhilarating space fights. Gun Brooke’s second novel is forceful with a winning combination of solid characters and a brilliant plot. The book exemplifies her growth as inventive storyteller and is sure to garner multiple awards in the coming year.”—Just About Write
“Brooke is an amazing author, and has written in other genres. Never have I read a book where I started at the top of the page and don’t know what will happen two paragraphs later. She keeps the excitement going, and the pages turning.”—MegaScene
Thorns of the Past
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eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.
Thorns of the Past
© 2017 By Gun Brooke. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-62639-858-0
This Electronic Original is published by
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, NY 12185
First Edition: July 2017
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editor: Shelley Thrasher
Production Design: Susan Ramundo
Cover Art By Gun Brooke
Cover Design By Sheri (graphicartist2020@hotmail.com)
By the Author
Romances:
Course of Action
Coffee Sonata
Sheridan’s Fate
September Canvas
Fierce Overture
Speed Demons
The Blush Factor
Soul Unique
A Reluctant Enterprise
Piece of Cake
Thorns of the Past
Supreme Constellations Series:
Protector of the Realm
Rebel’s Quest
Warrior’s Valor
Pirate’s Fortune
Exodus Series:
Advance
Pathfinder
Escape
Novella Anthology:
Change Horizons
Acknowledgments
There are always people to thank, and it is important, as getting a book out to the readers is by no means an easy task, or one I do totally solo.
My first thanks go to my publisher Len Barot (aka Radclyffe) as always, since without her and her vision for Bold Strokes Books, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be where I am today. (Writing on my 20th novel…) Rad, as most of us lovingly call her, took a chance on a Swede and probably hoped her English would not work the life out of her poor editor. Luckily, my beloved editor, Dr. Shelley Thrasher, is still going strong. We have worked on all the books together and I can’t imagine not working with her.
Sandy Lowe, senior editor, is always there—only an email away, which is great. Always very kind and equally supportive; she is awesome!
Cindy Cresap, Stacia Seaman, Ruth Sternglantz, Connie Ward, and proofreaders, copy e
ditors—every single one of you deserve your very own shout-out!
Outside of Bold Strokes Books, there are other people who mean a lot when it comes to my writing. My first readers who give me their honest opinion—on this book: Maggie, Laura, Sam, and Georgi. Awesome gals!
My loving, wonderful family…you always express your pride in me and what I do! Elon, Malin, Henrik…you hold my heart…Pentti, beloved, beloved grandkids…Ove, Monica…I have so many to be grateful for!
Then there are the friends! Margareta, Shafieqa, Laura, Joanne, Soli, Birgitta…
All my readers who buy my books—so loyal, so sweet. Not to forget: the fanfiction readers! Equally loyal and appreciative!
And lastly, but ever so importantly, the dogs. Hoshi, the golden/flat-coated retriever, and Esti, our adopted white Russian street dog. Not one day without laughter with you clowns!
Dedication
To Nicolas—our sixth grandchild who was born during the time I wrote this book. Little guy, you are so welcome and your smiles bring out my joy every time I see you, whether via WhatsApp or in real life.
Prologue
2002
The sand was still warm from having the merciless sun bake it all day. Sabrina dug her heels into it with each step as she moved backward, not taking her eyes off the three men approaching her.
“Guys? It’s not funny anymore. Stop it.” She tried to keep her voice firm, but their decisive moves as they spread out in front and on both sides of her made her wary. If she only knew who they were, but they all wore pantyhose masks and made awful low, catcall noises as they homed in on her.
“Please. Stop this. We’re supposed to be heading for the bus.” All she could think of was how to get back to the bus waiting to drive them all back to campus. She would be safe there. “Come on?”
Now she had her back against the steep dunes behind her and tried to climb backward, letting her eyes dart between them. Loose sand ran over her feet as she kicked at it, trying to find her footing. She was out of breath now, and sweat poured down her back despite the cooling night air.
Where were Callie and Dawn? She had danced with her best friends all evening around the campfire, laughing and getting tipsy on beer. That had sent her on a quest for the toilet area among the dunes, but going there alone had been a big mistake. After Sabrina left the bonfire area, she’d realized too late how dark it had grown. She’d decided to go back and find Callie, her roommate, when the three men appeared dressed in generic beachwear for preppy young guys.
The men were only a few yards away, and she could tell they were wearing what looked like nylon stockings over their heads. Sabrina panicked. This wasn’t a joke. These guys were either out to scare her or…worse. She pivoted and ran up the dune, knowing that was her only chance. She drew in a new breath to scream for help, but a hard shove against her back silenced her as she fell face forward into the sand. It filled her entire mouth and she could hardly breathe.
Trying to spit the sand out, Sabrina tried to claw her way up the dune, grunting against the hard knees and hands pressing her down. She kicked, but their hard grip of her ankles made it impossible. There were too many of them, and they were so strong.
“No use fighting, bitch,” one of the men hissed, his voice right at her ear. “No one can hear you. Just keep munching on that sand and enjoy the ride.”
The other men laughed as they tore the shorts and tank top from her body. Sabrina fought them with every ounce of her strength, scratching at them, even biting. She heard them curse her, and when she was naked down to her bikini bottom, she managed to spit the last of the sand from her mouth. This didn’t stop them from pulling off the last piece of clothing.
Deeply terrified and in shock from being naked in the sand with three men bending her arms and legs until she thought they’d break or be dislocated, Sabrina screamed hoarsely for help. At first her voice was barely audible, and the men didn’t seem to care. They growled and laughed behind the nylon stockings, and one of them even made a hole where his mouth was and wagged his tongue at her.
“No, no, no, no…please. Oh, God. Don’t do this,” she moaned.
“But you’ll enjoy it, bitch. I promise. Just spread those amazing long legs, and you’ll find all you need is a good fucking from some talented bastards to get off your high horse, Sabrina.”
Sabrina? They knew her? She coughed up more sand, and now she had more air. Screaming as loud as she could, she could tell her voice carried much farther. “Help! Please, help! Help!”
“Shut up!” the closest man hissed. “Shut the fuck up!” He pressed his hand over her mouth, and she panicked. She had to keep screaming or they’d never find her. These guys…they could kill her and…Sabrina bit down hard on the edge of his hand and refused to let go before he pulled back. Then she screamed again, this time so loud her voice cracked.
The men appeared to panic and tried to silence her. Blows to her abdomen, her head, and to her face rained all over her. Certain they would kill her, Sabrina curled up and protected her head and abdomen. Her arms and legs took the brunt of the violence, but she’d stopped caring about that as long as they didn’t cut her or hit her head.
Suddenly it all stopped. Their hands were no longer on her body. Were they still there? Lying still, she listened, but all she could hear was her husky, sandy gasps. She opened her eyes, blinking against the grains in her tear-drenched lashes. She was alone and felt her aching, naked, sandy body grow cold. Sabrina lay there still, listening to her breathing, trying to match the sound of the distant waves.
Thoughts of her brother made new tears stream down her face. Daniel was the only person in her family she could relate to, and he felt the same way about her. He was merely sixteen, and this, her being attacked and hurt, would destroy him.
After what seemed like hours, the sound of distant voices approached. Were the men coming back? Grabbing at her clothes, Sabrina found only her shorts and held them against her, curling up around them. Trying to hide her naked breasts, she whipped her head back and forth to make sure the men weren’t there, hiding in the dunes. She couldn’t see anyone. Sobbing now, she fell onto her side in the sand. Now she wasn’t screaming anymore, but wailing, as she wanted to hide from everyone forever.
“Sabrina? Sabrina! Oh, my God, Sabrina!”
Callie and Dawn appeared out of nowhere, crying out as they fell to their knees and wrapped their arms around her. As Sabrina looked up, she saw what seemed like hundreds of faces like a wall around them. The thought hit her that the three men might be among the onlookers. Any of the guys could be one of them. Only college kids had stayed this long at the beach.
More screams broke free from her sandy vocal chords and echoed along Crane Beach, and only when Dawn, sobbing and hushing, held her tight did they turn into a frantic murmur.
“What was that, Sabrina? I can’t hear you.” Callie patted Sabrina’s back, sounding shocked and confused. “Sabrina?”
“D-don’t leave me. Don’t leave…me. Don’t leave me alone…with them.” Sabrina hid against Dawn. All she wanted was to go home to her dorm room and shower her aching, bruised body. She wanted to lock the door and crawl into her bed—perhaps never come out of there.
Nothing in her life would ever be the same.
How could it?
Chapter One
Present Day
“You off now?” Meghan glanced up at Darcy as she passed her desk. “When are you going to realize you’re burning your candle from both ends by working two jobs?”
“Hey, I’m young and strong, dear cousin. I can pull all-nighters, no problem at all.” Darcy pulled on her cap and buttoned her uniform jacket. Every time she donned the night-guard uniform, her heart twitched painfully. She used to wear her police uniform proudly, and now, wearing this, she felt like such a fraud. Being a night guard was a respectable job, but she missed being on the police force so much she ached sometimes. Carrying out two jobs, as a private investigator for her cousin Meghan’s firm and
as a night guard for SecLife, did indeed wear her out when she was needed at one place right after another, like today.
“Yes. You are, I admit,” Meghan said. “But one of these days you’ll stretch yourself too thin, and then I’ll have to scrape you up with a spatula.”
“Ew.” Darcy crinkled her nose. “Then what? Make an omelet out of me? Sounds delish—not.”
“I was going to say, as fine dining to the closest cannibal, yes.” Meghan stuck out her tongue. Five years older than Darcy, Meghan had always felt close to her, but sometimes her cousin assumed the “concerned older sister” role, which she had done a lot ever since…Darcy stopped her train of thought before it sent her into a full-blown pity-party.
“The closest cannibal, huh? That desperate to get rid of me?” Donning her gun belt, she then unlocked the top drawer in one of the file cabinets and pulled out her Glock. She made sure the clip was full and the spare as well. During day shifts at SecLife she didn’t carry a gun, but as she was normally on her own in her wing of the building she worked in during nights, it was required.
“Never. Business has only become better since you joined me here. You know that.” Meghan stood and walked over to her. “Your knack for surveillance and skills with the camera have increased our efficiency by twenty percent.”
“Really?” Darcy stopped adjusting her belt. “You sure it isn’t because your business is more established now? I came into it at the end of its first year. That year’s always an uphill battle, so I’m told.”