Redemption
Copyright © 2016 by Samantha Harrington
First publication: July 2016
Samantha Harrington
www.samanthaharringtonauthor.com
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, 2016
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
This book is a work fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organisations is entirely coincidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for third party websites or their content.
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To the man I love…
In love we will find Redemption.
Charlie…
For always believing and never giving up on me.
Love you to the moon and back.
To my Pa…
Without you I would be lost. You make me shine.
Thank you.
Table Of Content
Dedication
Table Of Content
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 20
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue
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Prologue
Alekzander
The aftermath of the attack has been hard on us all. My body may have healed in the months since, and I have been working hard never to be that vulnerable again, but I’m no longer recognisable. I’ve been working hard in the gym, trying to add some extra bulk, eating better so that I can build muscle mass, plus I’ve added some well earned ink. The knife wound resulted in surgery, and the beating I got resulted in months of pain and rehabilitation.
I can honestly say I will never be able to repay my brother for what he did; flying out to Russia with his guys and wiping Ivan out. He caused the fire and left the place in nothing but a ruin of ash. The only one he brought back was Emma. Yeah … let’s not go there at the moment. That’s a story for another day.
My relationship with my brother since has been strained. He lost one of his guys because of me. Everything that happened is because of me … Damien and Malc seem a lot closer together, but the one thing I noticed from that travesty is it confirmed they are brothers biologically, not just friends that grew up together. I will never have the bond they have.
They have seen good times and bad times, so they know each other inside out. All we have is regret and hatred at the moment.
Regret for everything I have caused. And hatred because of the pain and suffering I brought to the family. That’s the thing with Damien; his family comes first no matter what. He came to my aid, all guns blazing, but once he learned the truth he never looked at me the same.
Can you imagine looking at the face of the man you called your saviour, only to see anger in his eyes, and shame that you come from the same stock, or that you have an additional flaw?
Faith never treated me differently. She helped me fight to come back; even after everything that happened, she was there, helping me recover, helping me become stronger. Even Lilly showed compassion for me after the attack; she made me cakes and treats, and we talked for hours about what my father was like. I can honestly say I don’t regret not meeting him. After everything he caused I’m sort of embarrassed to be tarred with the same brush. Now, I can only do one thing: I have to build myself up from nothing again and come out on top.
So how do you change the habit of a lifetime? You need to move on from the past and change the future.
I need to find my own place! I need to get out of the house; the constant atmosphere is draining. Watching them feign happiness at having to put up with me because I’m family, is a struggle. Well, no more! First thing tomorrow, I’m of to the estate agent and getting myself a place. Away from all this pain.
I’m sitting in my room; I can’t face going out to the kitchen to sit idly by, listening to all their hopes and dreams, as if nothing happened. My laptop is calling me from the drawers I placed it in all them months ago. I haven’t had time to gamble, I have been trying to recover … Not now though; it’s singing that sweet song, pulling me in, wanting me to take the leap and just hit spin. That all-or-nothing gamble, winner takes all. That’s what I need to help me tonight, I’m sure of it.
I pad silently over to the drawers and pick up my laptop. Bringing it over to my bed, I sit on the edge. I’m still in two minds. It was this problem that caused all that mess in the first place. If I could have been stronger, braver, or even half of the man my mother deserved, then she would still be here today, at the end of the phone waiting to talk to me. Damn I miss her voice. I miss the way she would be happy to hear from me. She would rattle on about what she had done, or simply ask if I was eating enough. My mother was my rock. She put up with a lot from me growing up; the constant fights I would have at school, the neglect and hurt I felt because my father had his other family, one that he loved more than us.
How can a child be expected to be ok with that, to think that they’re not wanted enough, that they’re not loved enough, or that you have done something wrong? That is how I felt for years. Every day I would wake up with that playing on my mind. Don’t get me wrong, he sent us money, paid for my school, and our house was lavish. But none of that matters when all you crave is love from the people who are supposed to do that unconditionally.
My mother was amazing, though, until I got out of hand with the gambling, owing money to the wrong people. How the hell did I expect to get away with it and nobody get hurt? I was naïve, I was immature, but most of all I was selfish.
That’s when she knew she had to do something that would either fix me or break me. The day Damien turned up on my door was the day my illusion shattered and I saw a way out. Little did I know that the past would come back to haunt me. They made me pay for my sins in the only way they knew would hurt me. They took my mother from me!
The shiny, red case is enticing me, so I open the laptop and place it on my knees. I draw my legs up, bringing it closer to my face, making sure I don’t miss anything that may pop up on the screen.
Well, it’s too late now. I press the power button, and with that one action I know that I’m hooked again.
Sometimes sins favour the weak.
Chapter One
Emma
I can’t ever go back home. Shame and disgust are keeping me away. How can they stand to look at me again? It’s better that they think I’m dead.
I feel dirty all the time. I have scrubbed my skin until it bleeds. But nothing gets rid of the dirt, the smell of their disgusting slobber on my skin, the feel of their filthy cocks pounding inside of me; little, large, fat, thin, big balls, little balls. You name it I�
�ve had to endure it,
with no emotion showing on my face, feeling dead inside realising they’re not worth my tears. No one is. Only Alekzander has a chance, but he doesn’t even notice me like I want him to. I’ve tried to initiate conversation; we have had polite ones, but he just doesn’t see me as anything more than a whore who got released from her job by chance.
If only he knew the truth. Damien and Faith know the facts. The first day back after we landed, Damien had the doctor come to the room I was staying in and examine me. I was so closed off, but with a great sense of relief flooding through me, I let it all out. I was so happy at the thought of being reunited with my family … but not so happy about how they would see me if they ever found out what had happened to me.
“You want to feel what I’ve got, baby? Ivan said you’re the sweet little English rose. Now I’m going to fuck you like the dirty slut you are.” His hands stripped me of my clothes.
His mouth descended on my chest. The nips and licks to my nipples felt good. I shouldn’t be enjoying this, but I can’t help the way my body responded to them. I laid on my back on the bed with a strange guy between my legs. He was the fourth guy I’d had to endure that week, but that figure kept increasing the longer I was kept there. Suddenly I felt the latex barrier that separated the skin on skin contact, and I was relieved. The thought of catching something from any one of those guys made me feel sick. His thrusts were deep and hard. I spread my legs further and tilted my hips; I knew how to end it quicker; say all the right things, moan at the appropriate times, anything to help speed up the humiliation. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing it got me off; just being wet was enough, add an orgasm to that and I was mortified.
“Yeah you like that, slut? You like what this big Russian cock is doing to you?” I couldn’t help but laugh in my mind; there was nothing big about his cock. The pumping continued for a few more minutes. My ohhs and ahhs must have done the trick as the sweat was pouring from every pore of his body. He tensed, and the tell tale jerk of the hips told me it was over, meaning I could get a shower and curl up and go to sleep. At least in my dreams I’m home and happy. He laughed as he dressed, left a few bills on the table for me, and told me he would be back to see me soon. I got up off the bed when I heard the door close, walked to the tiny bathroom, and switched the shower on. I loved the tessellated floor in that home, the tiny square mosaic details were stunning. During my time there I had counted most of them. It was the only thing that kept me sane.
My thoughts only confirm what I already know; how can anyone want me now, now that I have all this to deal with? I’m never going to be the model wife one wants to parade around. They will never understand because I will never tell a man what I’ve had to suffer with. I don’t want to go back yet. I want to be able to see where this new direction in life is going to take me.
I’m sat in the kitchen eating my breakfast. This has to be one of the best rooms in the house. The floor to ceiling window that runs the back length of the kitchen, opening onto the garden at the back, is just beautiful when you’re looking out in the morning, drinking your first cup of coffee. Last night was hard; the flashbacks seem so real I almost feel like I’m still there, going through the motions day after day. It’s hard not to see the nameless faces that took their pleasure from my body. I want to move on and forget, but I have to be realistic. All I have at the moment is Faith and Damien to keep me safe and well.
I help out now by looking after little Anya and Charlie whenever they come to visit. They fired Emily who had looked after them previously because they saw how much Anya enjoyed being with me. So it’s a win-win. I don’t feel like a mooch staying here for free, and they pay me great as well so I’m able to save up for my new life, wherever that may take me. I Just need to decide now’s the right time. The look on Anya’s face every morning, that cheeky smile that’s just for me is what’s keeping me grounded right now. When I’m with her I can forget.
She’s at that stage where she is into everything. I have a new nickname for her, ‘fingers’, and that’s only because she picks anything up and brings it to you or puts it in her mouth. It’s lovely to see her every day, to watch her as she starts to develop her little personality traits.
Why wouldn’t I want to be here and watch her grow? Faith and Damien gave me a chance, they trust me with their most precious angel, and it restores the faith in me that not everyone judges on what they think they know.
Some people give you a chance, and it’s that one chance that makes you see that maybe you’re just worth it.
These last few months have been a mix of pleasure and pain, nightmares and dreams. To be rescued from that life and have to live a whole different life that you never anticipated is a shock to the system.
My life before was perfect. I was a daddy’s girl who was spoilt rotten. I had everything you could imagine; credit card, money, clothes, and my sexy BMW that I would use to take me from my home in the country to Uni in Cambridge. How I got in to university I will never know. Growing up I was always fonder of the boys and fashion, studying never really interested me. But I pulled it off somehow and left school with four A grade GCSEs, and that was enough to secure me a place for the Drama Degree I wanted.
The trip to Spain was supposed to be a chance to relax and unwind. It was our last holiday as a family before I had to return to Uni after the summer break. For the most part, I spent my days lounging around the pool area drinking cocktails. But one morning my mum wanted to go out and explore the town, to get a feel for the local history, and sample what the real Spain had to offer, not just what the tourists could see.
Inside of the hotel, it’s just a brand that you see, one meant to show money and class, but out in the open air away from the opulence that money provides you get a sense of the history, culture and real life people. The warm welcome from the natives, that’s when you realise there is more to life than money.
It was a stunning day, only a light summer breeze filtered through the air. My blonde hair was flowing freely, and the little bikini top I had on with the cut-off shorts showed off the tan that was coming along nicely. The natural, golden-bronze tan that could only come from hours of soaking up the warmth of the sun.
The market was busy, all the little stalls placed in neat rows along the street. The aromas that filled the air had my taste buds dancing, salivating, desperate to try something exotic that they had prepared. I could hear the sounds of people milling around and talking about what they wanted and how much it was going to cost them to purchase. Vendors were exhibiting their stunning handmade items, endless hours of craftsmanship evident in their perfection. The only way they made money was by having to sell something that they had put their heart and soul into lovingly creating. Only to have to sell it to make ends meat.
I was stood at a busy little stall waiting for my mum to purchase some castanets. What the hell she wanted them for was beyond me. The sense of being watched crept up my spine like a tidal wave, my body instantly on alert looking around to see what could be causing this unease. It was too late; I didn’t have time to react to the two big, burly men that were surrounding me. They ordered me to go with them and not make a scene, or else my mother wouldn’t make it back to the hotel unharmed. So I did what any other loving daughter would do — I went with them, thinking that once they had my purse and the money that I had inside that they would let me go … how wrong I was to assume. That saying is true; assumption is the mother of all fuck-ups, and that day was the epitome of it. I assumed that their intentions were to rob me, not enslave me.
They dragged me into some dirty alleyway and hurtled me towards the waiting van. That’s when I saw the back doors fly open. I started to panic and tried to break free from their hold by drawing whatever attention I could to myself. I kicked out and screamed but nothing helped. No one came. Suddenly, a hand tried to muffle my protests. It was a wrong move. I bit down hard and tasted blood. When his grip became slack, I used that to my advantage
and tried to escape. I ran as fast as my trembling body would carry me, but it wasn’t fast enough. The other guys quickly caught up to me, but this time I don’t remember seeing the open doors of the van.
The room I woke up in was the one I was going to spend months in. It was basic but clean.
That’s how I was left. I had no clue where I was or who I was with … until Ivan came in the room and explained things. He showed me what he expected from his little English rose.
His initiation into his world was strange to say the least. He almost made it feel special, like I wanted to have that man thrust between my legs, showing me what he expected from me, how I was going to help him seal deals and be the perfect partner to draw in the unsuspecting and gain their favour, to give him the advantage that he craved to be bigger and better in this world.
The weeks went on with Ivan showing me what he wanted me to do, showing me how to use a dildo or getting me comfortable whilst tied to a bed.
It was the day when the first ‘client’ came that I broke down and cried for my mum. I know I will always be a daddy’s girl, but in that moment I had nothing to lose, so I cried for my mum in the hope that she would hear me and come to my rescue. But she never came, not once, so I realised that would be my life and I had to make the most of it.
That’s why I took the job with Faith and Damien, some things are just way too important not to. Some people come into your life for whatever reason, but it’s how you treat them and keep them in your life that defines you.
You can choose to let them pass you by, or you can take a chance and hope it pays off. That’s what I did. Its been a long road but now I can see hope.
I look up from my coffee and come face to face with Alekzander. I smile and drop my legs from the opposite chair hoping he takes the hint.
Chapter Two
Alekzander
I see her in the kitchen as I enter, sat at the table drinking her ritual morning coffee, her hair flowing freely. She is fucking stunning. I really have to try and get my reaction to her under control. I can’t approach her after everything she has been through. But the way she has just smiled and dropped her legs from the other chair in invitation, my legs move on their own, taking me towards her … Emma.
Redemption (The Volkov Mafia Series Book 4) Page 1
