by J. A. Kerr
The Braille Club Unbound
By J. A. Kerr
The Braille Club Unbound
Copyright © 2015 by J.A. Kerr. All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: December 2015
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
www.limitlesspublishing.com
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-378-6
ISBN-10: 1-68058-378-6
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Ben
57
Take the pieces and build them skywards.
Dedication
I want to thank the amazing team at Limitless Publishing, you did a terrific job.
I would like to thank my mum who passed on her passion for books, for which I’ll always be grateful.
Many thanks to all my family and friends for believing.
To my angels for their friendship.
To G, C and L, all my love, I couldn’t have done it without you.
Author’s Note
My dream was to write a successful book. Thank you for making my dream a reality.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Epilogue
Chapter 1
The Braille Club, London, One Year On. The Braille Bible had been updated as new zones and experiences evolved. New rules came with new zones. Pages were blank except for a series of dots. The first page contained the Braille alphabet. The second page contained Braille numbers, one to ten. All members needed to learn this method of communication…the language of Braille was the language of touch. They would have to learn quickly. Security at the club was tighter than ever, and those dots were the key to their entry.
London 2014
Siena
Siena walked into the kitchen and clicked on the coffee machine. This was her favourite part of the morning. She could indulge in a coffee while the twins took their nap and read over some work related items. Harrison’s, the club she and Benedict had opened, was doing well, but it was the development of their shared passion that interested her; the secret Braille Club. It operated from within Harrison’s, an exclusive private members club within the heart of Westminster. Siena had been instrumental in financing the ambitious project, and Benedict had completed Phase 1 and 2 of the current renovations.
Members had access to Caligo, the in-house nightclub and the hottest venue in London, and with Phase 1 and 2 complete, they now had a full range of leisure facilities. Their manager, Guy Walker, reported both sides of the business were doing well, and Siena, a trained accountant, could see that reflected in the figures. She heard the post drop to the floor. She flipped through it, separating the junk from the more important mail when she stopped at the official looking white envelope. Her heart thumped…was it the DNA results? Her hands shook, was she ready for this? She knew this letter contained critical information that would not only shape the rest of her life…but would also be central to the court case against Nick.
She needed time to compose herself, and she poured her coffee before reaching for the cookie jar. The routine calmed her heart rate as she took a sip of coffee and a bite of cookie. Her gaze fixed on the envelope in front of her, all coherent thought gone as her stomach did a somersault. That letter contained the evidence that would put her mind at rest and sever Nick from her life forever.
Her coffee and cookie finished, she checked her watch. The twins wouldn’t sleep much longer; her gaze strayed to the envelope. It felt like a ticking bomb. She couldn’t put it off any longer, but didn’t move. She was frightened all the time now, and today was no different. Anger surged through her; she hated what she’d become, what he had done to her. Squaring her shoulders, she reached for the envelope and ripped it open. She took a deep breath and pulled the paper out and read. Yes, it was as she thought; the letter contained the DNA results. Siena trembled as she read then reread the letter, but her mind refused to accept what her eyes were seeing.
“No,” she gasped, tears of shock welling in her eyes.
She couldn’t breathe. Fingers squeezed at her throat as she struggled to comprehend what was happening. Gasping, her breath was more and more erratic. She hunted for a bag as the panic attack took hold. Hyperventilating, she crashed around the kitchen in utter panic.
She found a bag. Shaking all over, she snatched it up and breathed in and out in rapid bursts as her heart pumped furiously in protest. She sensed the attack would be severe, and her panic swelled to dangerous levels. Sweat and distress seeped from every pore. Nick was in her head now, and her terror was absolute. His presence sent Siena’s mind spinning; she recalled the hatred in his eyes and his hands at her throat. No longer in control, his fingers tightened painfully, and a strangled sob escaped her lips. Her windpipe constricted. She dropped the bag and clawed at her throat. Mind at breaking point and body under attack, she forgot everything she had learned to combat these situations. The room spun, and she fell backwards as blackness descended.
Gradually she became aware of a noise—the sound riveted her. She opened her eyes as she heard a sharp cry from the baby monitor. It’s what saved her—stopped her from blacking out again. The sound cut through her fog and fear. Her mothering instinct kicked in, rising above her turmoil as she heard the cry again. The sound forced her to concentrate; she saw the bag lying next to her but still couldn’t move. The cries increased. She turned her head and body. Pain shot through her as she tried to look at the screen. The crying was more distressed but the monitor was out of sight. Frustrated, her fingers reached for the bag, but there was something wrong with her left arm, it wouldn’t move. Panicked but determined, she secured the bag with her right hand and blew into it.
Siena fought for cont
rol as a film of sweat covered her body. Her mind was her enemy now; she had to subdue her demons if she had any chance of getting up and attending to her children. She tried to regulate her breathing, taking in small breaths and letting them out like a sigh. The crying ceased and she twisted again towards the monitor. Her heart jumped in fright. Images of Reeva, choking, floated through her head…she was sure it was her cry. She turned onto her right side. The movement made her head swim. Her need to ensure the twins were safe made her reach up and grab the leg of the chair.
Slowly, painfully, she pulled herself upright and onto her knees. Her left shoulder and arm hung uselessly. She rested against the island; the crumpled bag still clutched in her hand, and continued to blow into it. Her anxiety was worse; she had to get to the twins. Head pounding, she probed it with her fingers; wincing. The sight of blood on her fingers made her nauseous and she gagged. There was blood on the floor. Annoyed at her weakness, she concentrated on getting to the monitor. Moving gradually, her knees shuffling on the floor, she edged around the island holding onto the granite until she could see it. Her prize in sight, she ignored the pain in her shoulder. Clumsily, she leaned onto the bar stool for support; her laboured breathing the only sound in the room. The baby monitor remained silent.
Fear made her push up, using all her strength until she was standing. Her legs wobbled at first but were steady now. She propped herself against the worktop and picked up the monitor. The video feed showed the twins asleep, and she let out of sob of relief. She stared at her daughter, searching her face. Fair-skinned Reeva looked angelic with her thumb jammed into her mouth, her white blonde curls framing her face like a halo. Her perfect bow lips were moving as she sucked. She had burrowed into the side of her brother, his face turned away as he slept. They were not identical but fraternal twins. Leo had a mop of dark hair, his skin olive—a stark contrast to his sister.
How could it be possible? Her breathing was still ragged but the worst of the attack was over. Her throbbing shoulder was harder to ignore as beads of sweat rolled down her back. With all of her remaining strength, she banished Nick and his invisible fingers from her mind. Her gaze fell onto the letter, the trigger point of her attack, and she stiffened. Her heart thumped as she reached for the results again. They were still the same, and the words blurred through her tears. Benedict was at work, having left early this morning, unaware his world was about to change forever. Exhausted, distraught, and in pain, she reached for the phone, sick to her stomach…how could she tell him? Her hand faltered—she bent her head and wept.
Chapter 2
The Braille Club, London, One Year On. The doors to Harrison’s and the secret Braille Club are locked on a full-time basis. All members are required to place their key into the outdoor lock to gain entry. The exterior door opens to reveal another. Members must insert their key into the lock above an electronic keypad, then punch in their unique access code. The key doesn’t work without the code and vice versa. This is for security and privacy, adding a further air of mystery to the Club, as people speculate on events behind its closed doors.
London 2014
Nick
Nick Waters was a model prisoner. On remand, he had time…time to think. He hadn’t meant to hurt his ex-wife; he’d only wanted the truth. She’d betrayed him. He could hardly bear her being with another, but the legacy of her affair was hard to ignore; she’d been pregnant, for god’s sake.
His mind drifted back to that phone call. The call that changed his life, and he wished he’d done things differently. The shock of finding out Siena was pregnant had completely thrown him. His fertility issues with his first wife had meant the chances were high the baby wasn’t his…but still. Dazed and acting on instinct, he had gone to the hospital to get answers. Siena had been acting strangely ever since her trip to Marbella to meet with the architect in charge of their villa project. The thought of Benedict Harrison made him twitch. He’d suspected something was wrong, but Siena had outfoxed and outplayed him. She’d left him devastated and demanded a divorce while concealing her pregnancy, the bitch.
The phone call had blown everything out into the open. Drugging her was the only way he could talk to her and cut through her lies. He hadn’t wanted to tie Siena to the wheelchair, but she could be unpredictable. Things were going well, and he’d been about to return her unharmed when he’d spied Harrison at the hospital. This confirmed all his suspicions. He blamed him for what had happened next. Without his presence, things might have gone differently, he was sure of it. Instead, because of him and the police, he’d panicked and run, taking Siena with him.
His face darkened now as he remembered what happened. Finding out Siena had been faking her hypnosis sent him over the edge into a murderous rage. The lying bitch had pushed him too far this time. When he’d drawn his hand back and slapped her, it was the biggest rush of his life. Stunned, he’d realised he couldn’t wait to do it again.
He savoured the memory, his hands curling in and out of fists as his arousal grew. When he’d hit her the second time, his excitement got the better of him. He’d slipped up; he should have taped the bitch’s mouth. That’s when it had all gone wrong; her scream had forced him to keep her quiet. He relived the events—his hands squeezing her delicate throat—his body tightened as his hand travelled down to unzip his fly. He played with himself as memories of throttling Siena filled his mind. The few slaps he’d given her were a revelation…he’d enjoyed it. He loved the power and control. Most of all he’d loved hurting her, his arousal a wonderful surprise and bonus, but nothing compared to the actual strangulation. His fingers worked quickly, he grunted and his body arched as he climaxed. The euphoria didn’t last long; images of Harrison bursting through the door had him shaking with rage. He remembered the pain of his punches as he’d fought him. The humiliation of lying on the floor as he waited to be arrested.
The anger bubbled up inside him because he wanted to hurt them both now; in fact, it was his only focus. He would enjoy destroying the man who had stolen her from him. Annoyance filled him. Why had he panicked? He knew if he’d only kept calm things might have turned out differently.
Nothing would be left to chance next time—and there would be a next time—he was an excellent planner. Allowing himself to dream, he remembered their marriage. He smiled—he had almost ten years’ worth of memories to sift through—good memories of their life together until Harrison ruined everything.
His mood darkened and his face filled with hate. He now knew about the twins, and while there was a slim possibility those babies were his, he would use it to his advantage. Those DNA results would be the key to everything. His mood shifted and his thoughts turned to revenge. His plans for Siena once reunited? His face lit up in a beatific smile.
She would be sorry. She would beg for mercy in vain, as whatever humanity Nick had left had been brutality stamped out by prison. He’d learned to channel the brutality, to embrace it, surviving on his wits and his ability to negotiate—his burning desire to get out and get even his only aim. Outwardly he appeared unchanged but inside, everything was dark and deadly. He would come for them when they least expected it, but he would come for all of them.
Chapter 3
The Braille Club, London, One Year On: The Braille Club booking system was now available online. Members could book one week in advance and would log in via the Braille Club’s remote, but secure, log-in. They must enter their membership number and unique code. An automatic text was generated and sent to their mobiles. This was the last but most essential code, enabling them access to register their desired nights. The system would check availability against their specific rotational allocation and confirm if their chosen night and zone preference would be granted.
London 2014
Guy
Guy had tried to talk Siena and Benedict out of having a Braille Club session on opening night. Shocked they were using the glass cube as the venue, and feeling ill prepared, he argued against it. The cube was exposed—wh
at if something went wrong? He’d felt tense all night, and only relaxed when the glass turned opaque; it had failed several times in the last few days, the switch jamming.
The chairs, although thoroughly tested, still made him uneasy. As he stood outside checking the hands of the people entering the cube, he could feel the tension building. When he stepped inside he was transported into a different life. A life he welcomed, a life he hungered for; a welcome distraction from Anna. She still haunted him. Two years since their split, and yet it felt like yesterday.
The job at Harrison’s was all consuming. He worked long hours and fell into bed at night exhausted. It was the only way he could cope, the only way he could sleep, although Anna filled his dreams. The zones were taking shape, under his and Siena’s direction. Benedict was involved too, but the redevelopment of the rest of the building was his priority. They had completed the underground car park and Caligo.
The second phase was the main focus. The upper floors would be transformed into a welcoming reception. They would offer restaurants, a state of the art gym, and unparalleled sports facilities including studios, squash, tennis, and badminton courts. The pool would be spectacular with a full complement of saunas and steam rooms.
So, he’d been working flat out; things were hectic with the success of Caligo and the ongoing construction. As Phase 2 neared completion, Guy knew he would be busier than ever, and he welcomed it. He was an old school workaholic, married to the job. He had joined the police force at the tender age of eighteen. Disappointed he would not be attending university, his parents could not change his mind.
He found his work demanding and rewarding, although the shifts wrecked what little social life he’d had. His relationships didn’t last, he wasn’t interested enough, and the job always came first. The long hours he put in didn’t help either. Towards the end, he hooked up with married female officers and other work-related colleagues. These illicit affairs gave him the buzz he craved. The sex was hot, dirty, and passionate. The affairs were often short-lived but never boring. He was an excellent judge of character. He avoided needy females, seeking those who wanted to stay married. The arrangement had to suit both parties. Ambitious and with no family constraints, he was free to pursue career advancement, wherever that took him.
