Dazed (The Deliverance Series Book 1)

by Maria Macdonald

  Maria Macdonald

  Dazed

  Deliverance Series

  Book One

  Maria Macdonald

  Copyright 2017 Maria Macdonald

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the Author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations or places is entirely coincidental.

  All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the Author. All songs, song titles and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

  Editing by Swish Design & Editing

  Formatting by Swish Design & Editing

  Cover design by Francessca’s Romance Reviews

  Cover Image Copyright 2017

  For Laura,

  You hold me up and keep me going. And you’re the sweetest soul I know.

  People say the heart wants what it wants and will not be denied.

  Those people are fools.

  I’m a practiced hand at hiding from the world. The scars I bear are invisible to all but me, and I use them to sustain the walls I’ve built around myself.

  He knocked my simple life into disarray and infiltrated my carefully constructed defenses.

  The tight control I maintain is at breaking point, and ever since our eyes connected across a lunch hall, my world has been off balance.

  I can’t have him, and he can’t have me.

  I know it.

  He knows it.

  I’m just not sure that Tarrant Reigns has ever followed anyone’s rules.

  Everything and everyone is against us.

  Even his brother.

  Caden brought us together, but now he’s standing in our way.

  Dedication

  Blurb

  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Epilogue

  Playlist

  Acknowledgments

  Connect With Me Online

  About the Author –Maria Macdonald

  When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew.

  -William Shakespeare-

  I can’t move.

  Huge muscular hands engulf my neck. I can feel the tips of his fingers pushing into my throat, his nails dig into me like he’s trying to pierce my skin.

  “Devin,” I rasp, but that’s all I manage as he squeezes harder, ending any hope I had of trying to talk my way out of this.

  “Shut your fucking mouth. You don’t get to talk.” His words are spat at me, and a few drops of saliva land on my face, but as the world is turning blotchy and everything’s starting to fog, his spit is just a passing thought.

  “You think you can walk around school, dressed like you do, trying to attract every bit of male attention you can? That this wouldn’t eventually happen? You’re stupider than the sluts on the cheer squad,” he sneers with a menacing twinkle in his eyes.

  He’s loving this. I can feel his dick stretching his boxers as I try to contain the bile rising up from my stomach.

  “This is your fault, you’re making me do this. You have no one to blame but yourself.” His dark smirk matches his eyes as he looks down at me with undiluted pleasure.

  I know right then that I’m looking into the face of someone who is pure evil.

  I bolt upright in bed, my breathing labored, and my heart’s beating abnormally fast. Sweat drips down my back as I try to pull myself together, both body and mind. When I wake I never scream anymore. Instead, I glance over at Morgan and sigh with sweet relief when I see she’s still asleep. Her soft murmurs can’t be defined as snoring, but she’s definitely a mouth breather.

  Once my racing heart settles, I drag myself from the pit where my nightmare still lingers, clinging onto the recesses of my mind. My alarm clock relays what I already suspected considering the room is bathed in darkness—it’s a little after five in the morning, class doesn’t start until nine.

  I might as well get up now.

  On that thought, I sigh with frustration. There’s no way I’m going to find sleep again.

  Quietly, I grab my wash things and make my way to the bathroom, taking one last, longing look at my bed as I slip out the room. The sheets need to be changed, my fear-infused sweat has once again soaked them.

  Morgan is aware of my bad dreams. We sleep in the same room so there’s no way I’d be able to hide the ferocity of them, especially when I sometimes cry out during my nightmares. I’ve never told her about the horrors that fill them though, and because she’s such a good friend, she’s never once questioned me.

  Sighing, I stretch my neck and wonder if I’ll ever move on.

  Devin ended the life I once lived, and because of him, I changed. The image reflected at me in the mirror every day now is a stranger. I know the real me, the one I’ve run away from is still inside somewhere, but she’s subdued, beaten down, and I’m not sure if there will ever be a way to resurrect her.

  These days I don’t make friends easily. Trust is hard for me to give, even Morgan had to fight to earn my faith in her and to become my best friend. After what happened to me, I was happy to travel my path alone. It felt safer that way, but now I couldn’t imagine my life without her by my side. Honestly, though that scares me too, because I know sometimes I cling to her and I don’t want to depend on Morgan for my own happiness. I don’t want to depend on anyone.

  At school people tend to avoid me. I’m considered standoffish—apparently I hold everyone at arm’s length. Morgan used to tell me that people felt like I had an attitude problem. My old counselor explained that some people in my position continue to live life like the victim to which they had once been made. They could become scared and overly agreeable, but I was different—confrontational and argumentative were words she used when describing me. I think I’ve gentled slightly since starting college two years ago and am now seen more as aloof, although I’ve been called worse—cold, stuck-up, and even hateful. Those names would’ve bothered me if I was still capable of caring about the small, petty things like the old me would have. Not anymore, he ruined all of that.

  The truth is I like having friends if only I could believe people were genuine. My brain tells me that if I study someone hard enough, maybe I’ll be able to work out what type of person they are. I’ll be able to see if they’re good or bad. The only problem with that is, I stopped trusting my own judgment years ago. If I believe someone
to be honest, I’ll turn into the kind of friend who is loyal to the end. However, it’s not like there’s a queue of people outside my dorm room bidding for my time, and thankfully Morgan doesn’t seem to mind me hanging off her hip.

  I stopped going to therapy six months after the attack, and still I find new people slightly scary.

  “So, I listened in on the gossip queen’s conversation earlier,” Morgan puffs out, jogging up beside me as I walk between classes. I glance at her but say nothing. “They were talking about cheer practice. Gina said when they had their morning session, there was a new guy in the gym.”

  “Oh yeah?” I return uninterested.

  Morgan grabs my arm pulling me to a stop so I’m facing her. “Seriously, this guy is supposed to be H.O.T. hot,” she tells me excitedly hopping from one foot to the other.

  “H.O.T. hot, as opposed to what? H.A.W.T. hot?” I shoot back with a roll of my eyes and a twitch of my lips.

  “Ha ha, you’re really funny, Laura.” Morgan leans forward clutching her chest. “Oh, I can’t stop laughing. There goes a rib,” she hisses out deadpan, her face blank as she arches an eyebrow at me.

  Her words, combined with her face, set in motion a bubble of laughter which travels up my throat and erupts out of my mouth. By the time my laughter subsides, Morgan has her hip jutted out and her arms folded. I bite down on my bottom lip to stop myself from laughing again.

  “You cannot tell me that you’re not even a bit curious. I mean if the cheerleaders are talking about him, then he must be hot!”

  I smile at her. “Morgan, I’m sure he’s hot, and I’m also sure all the girls will be drooling over him. No doubt he’ll either be trying to play who has the biggest dick with the guys, or they’ll fall all over each other to align themselves with him because he’ll automatically be one of the guys,” I say, holding my hands up to make air quotes. “What I don’t see, is how that information has to be shared with me right now when I’m trying to get to sociology class. You’re gonna make me late,” I huff the last part out as I check my watch.

  “You’re no fun. All this, and it’s hidden.” She waves her arm up and down my body and shakes her head. “Whatever, I’ll walk with you,” she continues but makes a big thing of zipping her lips. I turn toward the sociology building and Morgan walks silently next to me.

  We’ve been friends and roommates since we both joined the same college and got pushed together at orientation. Morgan is the kind of girl who gets along with everyone—it helps that she has dark hair, flawless skin and big brown eyes. She’s a natural beauty and people gravitate toward her. Morgan’s parents gave her a Filipino-Mexican mix, and the results are stunning. She would fit right in with the cheerleaders if she had any natural talent for dancing or gymnastics, but unfortunately, she doesn’t. Personally, I’d hate to be front and center—the sidelines are where I strive to be. If I had my way I would be completely removed from everything, but Morgan keeps that from happening.

  Though, at first I tried my hardest not to let her in. Now, I love her like a sister, but even she doesn’t know my darkest secrets. No matter what though, she’s never failed to be there for me. She’s pushed me when I needed it and has never given up on me—though, at times, I’m sure she’s been tempted.

  “I’ll catch you at lunch, save me a seat, okay?” she demands as we reach my building. I nod and rush through the double doors as she veers right to enter her own class. Morgan is often late but it never fazes her. Me… not so much, trying to remain invisible is a full-time job.

  “What took you so long?” Morgan questions when I finally join her for lunch.

  “Sorry, I had to run to the library and pick up some books,” I explain breathing heavily as I try to catch my breath. Depositing my bag onto the table opposite I grab my soda and sandwich. Thumping down in the chair, I waste no time unscrewing the soda cap and gulping down half the contents. I follow this with a satisfied sigh.

  “Thirsty?” she asks with a smirk.

  “I knew you’d be wondering where I was, and moaning—”

  “I do not moan,” she says, cutting me off.

  I stare at her but remain quiet.

  “Okay, I sometimes moan, but only when there’s justification,” she concedes, with a gleam in her eye.

  “Hmmm. Anyway, I rushed to get here.”

  Morgan nods as I tuck into my cheese sandwich.

  “I don’t get why you had to get the books right now.” Her words are muffled through a mouthful of pasta.

  I shrug my shoulders and finish chewing. “I wanted to get them from the library before other students got there.”

  Her brow wrinkles, but she says nothing. If Morgan knew how little money I have and how tight my budget has to remain so I don’t drop out of school, she’d understand my need to borrow the books rather than having to buy them.

  “Apparently, Selina has already staked her claim to the hottie, but huzzah…” she shouts, getting stares from others around us, “… there are two of them.”

  “Two?” I ask carefully, placing my hand in front of my mouth so as not to spit my lunch at her.

  She nods her head eagerly. “Yep. Twins!” I can see the excitement flash in her eyes, and it makes my lips twitch as I take another bite of my sandwich. When the realization dawns that I’m not going to ask anything else, Morgan proceeds to fill me in, answering all the questions I haven’t asked. I sit and listen because I love watching her zest for life. I wish some of it would rub off on me.

  “According to my sources, they are twin hotties. I’ve not seen them yet, but tall, dark, handsome, you get where I’m going with this,” she explains with a wave of her hands. “Anywho, they aren’t identical, but they are both fine, or so I’ve heard. One of them is a football player, and he’s a typical jock… gorgeous with a fantastic body, perfect homecoming king type looks. The other is slightly leaner, dark hair, tattoos, typical bad boy persona, and he’s into cars… like muscle cars, Laura. So freaking hot,” she adds the last bit fanning her face.

  I smile and swallow the last of my sandwich. That will have to be enough to fill my stomach today as I don’t get paid from my cashier job until tomorrow.

  “Which one has Selina picked?” I ask, not really caring.

  “Oh.” She flaps her hand in front of her mouth while she finishes chewing. “The tattooed bad boy. Go figure, right? I mean it’s totally her MO.”

  With a nod I check my watch. My next class is in fifteen minutes, and then I’ll need to hit the books. I could go back to the dorm, but I’ll probably head to the library—having a scholarship means I try to study as much as possible.

  “Did you hear her last night?” Morgan questions, and my head jerks back in confusion. “Selina,” she hisses.

  “Oh yeah.” I roll my eyes. Selina lives in the dorm room next to us and often keeps us awake with her late-night visitors. She’s gone through three roommates in the last six weeks. I think she’s trying to swing it so that one of her friends can room with her.

  I asked her to keep the noise down once—it was after yet another late night guest and moans into the night. I had waited patiently until the next afternoon to talk to her. I was polite, friendly, and she shot me down calling me a loser and an uptight, frigid bitch. She thought I would sulk back into my room and hide away after her scathing remarks, but she thought wrong. I think the whole dorm is getting used to our showdowns, our last run-in was only a week ago.

  Shit.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  This is not how I want to spend my Saturday night. Listening to that gutter rat, Selina, bumping uglies with yet another new guy. At least, I think that’s what she’s doing—it’s either that, or she’s murdering him. The noises they’re both making—what I would imagine a dying Wookie sounds like—makes it hard to determine their aim. I try to keep my nose out. Morgan tells me to let it go, that it’s not my business, and truthfully, even though she’s a grade-A bitch, I couldn’t give a shit what Selina does. Just yesterday
she told me every time she saw my face, it made her want to cry. I flipped her off and walked away.

  Tonight it sounds like she’s fucking in the hall—right outside my door, up against the wall, and at one in the morning. Morgan is out visiting her brother and I’m trying to study.

  Laying my head on the mammoth-sized textbook I’m reading, my eyes start to droop.

  Suddenly, a loud bang followed by an “Ahhh, yeah” makes me jump. I’ve had enough of this shit.

  Stomping toward the noise, my PJs and fluffy purple slippers serving as my only armor, I swing my door open and step into the hall shouting, “Could you fuck a bit quieter? I know you like to practice. A lot. But going by the amount of sex you have, Selina, you’re either really bad at it, or you’re going for the world record. Maybe, the most one-night stands ever? Or the most diseases a college student can catch? Are you studying microbiology, is that it? Actually, when do you find the time to study? I mean you can’t be so smart that you don’t need to study, because… well … this!” I shout pointing at her and the guy she’s with, both of whom have their mouths hanging open. Half the doors along the hall are now open with people leaning out of them, and there’s a lot of stifled snickering. You would think we were still at kindergarten the way most of these people act.

  Neither of the confused-looking pair says anything, they just stand staring at me like I have spoken Swahili.

  “Gah!” I shout, walking back into my room, slamming the door, throwing myself under the covers, and planting my earphones in while simultaneously turning my iPod on. Aerosmith blasts in my ears, and immediately I’m soothed.

  “I have to get to class,” Morgan whines, rising out of her seat with as much enthusiasm as a cat being pulled toward a bath. “I need to pee, I’ll meet you there,” she says before dashing off. I nod to Morgan’s back and grab my stuff. Walking over to the trash can, I chuck in my wrapper.