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Thrall (A Vampire Romance)

Page 18

by Abigail Graham


  The lights went out.

  Grayson froze. Jennifer went stone still, holding his wrist in her hands, trying to stop the ripping at her scalp.

  Grayson let go of her and turned towards the direction of another person moving in the house. The pain in her tailbone screamed as she hit the floor, crushing everything else out until she gathered herself up enough to scramble into the closet.

  Grayson struggled with another man.

  As if it could keep her safe, Jennifer wrapped herself in one of Franklin’s old shirts. The other man escaped Grayson’s grip. He spun around and his kick to Grayson’s back sent him against the wall.

  Grayson produced an automatic pistol from under his coat. The stranger pointed and the gun flew from Grayson’s hand. A knife stuck his palm. Blood sprayed on the white plaster wall. Grayson howled and grabbed at his hand, then bull rushed the stranger, who put his hands on Grayson’s shoulders and rolled right over him, adding force to the charge that sent Grayson into the wall.

  Plaster cracked in a ragged spider web where Grayson’s head connected with the wall. Grayson stumbled against the other wall, his face a bloody mask from a big cut on his forehead and his broken nose. Black blood gushed from his misshapen nose and hung from his jaw in thick streams. He looked like a demon when his lips pulled back in fury.

  Grayson threw himself at the stranger, who caught his arm by the wrist and elbow. The sound was almost as awful as Grayson’s scream, like someone taking a handful of wet rotten wood and just cracking it with all their might. Bent at all the wrong angles, Grayson’s arm went limp and he stumbled into the window. His head went through it before he stopped to reach for his fallen gun. The stranger was already moving.

  He brought the old window sash down on Grayson’s head, pulled it up, and brought it down again. Grayson went still and slumped to the floor. The stranger calmly picked up the gun, checked it, and slipped it into his belt behind his back. Grayson’s chest rose and fell in slow motion.

  Jennifer was somewhere else. Her head was throbbing, her back was a red hot column of pain, and she must have twisted her ankle again, but all that was distant, raw information she couldn’t process.

  It wasn’t Grayson’s hand she felt on her hair, it was Elliot’s. She fell into the past. The smell of Everclear and cheap fruit punch on Elliot’s breath filled her nostrils. He forced her down on the bed, angrily yanked on her hair as she squirmed and struggled and tried to peel his hands away but he yanked her jeans down. The buttons scraped over her skin as he tore at her underwear and threw his weight on her. His hand worked against her back as he undid his fly. Elliot’s voice in her ear. Shut up. You’ll like it.

  “Jennifer?”

  “Franklin?” she croaked.

  Franklin came in the room, screaming at his brother. What are you doing? Leave her alone!

  “No, it’s me. I’ve got you.”

  Her chest hurt more than her back, her heart tightened so hard it would explode. She was sure she was dying.

  Every word was a struggle. “I’m h-having a heart attack.”

  He picked her up like she weighed nothing at all, and shoved the dresser out of the way with a hard kick. Her head hurt. Was her nose bleeding?

  She was burning up, but she shivered like she’d dropped into a pool of ice water. Jennifer clawed at the fabric and held on for dear life.

  Her room was trashed, the furniture destroyed, her bed torn up, and someone was picking her up, but that wasn’t real, that wasn’t there. She was seventeen years old and she would always be seventeen years old. There was nowhere else, only hurtful hands on her skin, bruising her arms and legs, the scrape of Elliot’s nails as he raked them over her skin and tore at her clothes, but this time there was no Franklin, no one to fix it, no one to make it go away.

  “He’s here,” she moaned. “He’s here. He’s here.”

  “There’s no one but me. I know you’re scared. Focus on my voice. You’re going to be okay.”

  “I’m having a heart attack.” Her throat felt like it was full of sand and she couldn’t swallow.

  “It’s going to pass.”

  “My purse. I need my purse. Get my purse.”

  Without putting her down, he grabbed the strap.The purse dangled from his hand as he carried her through the open front door.

  “Faisal, pick us up on the back street. Move.”

  Who was Faisal? Why were all these people in Franklin’s bedroom?

  A dark car rolled up. He lowered Jennifer into the back seat and crawled in beside her and slipped off his mask.

  “I’ve got you,” said Jacob.

  She grabbed his hand and squeezed. Her chest hurt.

  “I’m dying,” she whimpered. “I’m gonna die. I don’t wanna die.”

  “You’re not dying. Look at me.”

  She looked at him.

  “That was then. This is now. It’s just a memory. It can’t hurt you right now.”

  She shook her head. “He’s here.”

  “It’s just us.”

  The driver pulled away from the house.

  “Mrs. Carmody…“ She couldn’t manage more than a whimper.

  “The police are coming,” the driver said. He had a strange accent.

  “Jennifer, look at me. You’re not breathing. I need you to breath. With me, okay? In, out.”

  In, out.

  In, out.

  Her chest didn’t hurt so much now, but it was still hard to breathe. Every motion and jolt of the car made her clench up again. He put something cool on her forehead.

  “I’m cold.”

  “I know it feels that way, but you’re burning up. You’re safe here. Just look at me and breathe.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Someplace safe. Keep breathing. In, out.”

  Also by Abigail Graham

  Serials

  Paradise Falls

  Book One: Scar Tissue

  Book Two: Open Wounds

  Book Three: Turning Point

  Book Four: Spy Games

  Book Five: Shock Waves

  Novels

  Blackbird

  Thrall

  Copyright 2015 © Abigail Graham

  Cover design by Damonza damonza.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review.

  Trademarked names appear throughout this book. Rather than use a trademark symbol with every occurrence of a trademarked name, names are used in an editorial fashion, with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.

  The information in this book is distributed on an “as is” basis, without warranty. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this work, neither the author nor the publisher shall have any liability to any person or entity with respect to any loss or damage caused or alleged to be caused directly or indirectly by the information contained in this book.

  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 actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  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

  Also by Abigail Graham: Blackbird

  Also by Abigail Graham: Paradise Falls

  Copyright & A
ttributions

 

 

 


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