When her parents had been killed when she was still a minor, control of the Danvers’ empire had reverted to her uncle, her father’s brother, since they were each fifty percent shareholders in the company. Now that she was of age and had completed her business degree, she wanted nothing more than to start making a name for herself, to make her dreams a reality. Unfortunately, her uncle didn’t seem confident in her skills. He thought she needed more time, more experience before jumping into owning her own business. She’d always been level-headed and responsible…all her life she’d been the one considering every option before making hasty decisions. Some might have viewed this as making her boring; she liked to think of it as practical. Her uncle’s logic made no sense and quite frankly, it pissed her off.
He’d even gone as far as lining up a job interview for her; apparently she wasn’t capable enough of taking care of that herself. It certainly wasn’t anything prestigious as far as she was concerned, but once again his faulty logic came into play and he’d explained that by taking the receptionist position at a small carpentry business, she’d learn how to deal with the public in a more relaxed setting, handling situations that would prepare her for being her own boss. Unless she complied and secured and kept the position for at least six months, he wouldn’t release the capital she needed to start up the store.
Furious, she yanked open the door on her small red Mercedes and threw herself behind the wheel. She’d been so certain that today was the day that she would finally be taken seriously in his eyes. That he’d stop treating her with kid gloves and give in. How wrong she’d been about that. Now, instead of driving into the city to check out available rental spaces, she was headed to the outskirts of town for an interview that she needed to nail if she had any hope of getting what she needed from her uncle.
Pulling onto the main highway, she rolled the windows down and let the heat of the day fill the car. The wind whipped her shoulder-length brown curls around her face as she drove, relishing in the small feeling of freedom she felt while out on the open road. She may not have things exactly where she wanted them for her future; but at least in that moment she was the one in control.
While she wasn’t a fan of her uncle’s high-handed manner with her, she knew deep down it came from a place of love. The family had been devastated when her parents’ passed away. George Danvers was a well-liked, well-respected man in both the corporate world and in their hometown of Roseburn, Tennessee. Both of her parents were. When her uncle Henry lost his brother, he’d retreated into his shell for weeks. Depression had befallen all of them and it’d been months before they all started to heal. So while she was angry beyond belief with him for his methods; she knew he was only doing what he thought was best. What her father would have done if he was still alive.
When she reached the address that she’d jotted down on a scrap of paper, she pulled all the way down the drive and cut the engine. The country home was beautiful, not overly large, it was an all-white beautiful wood home with a generous porch. Set off to the side was a large warehouse, with a low sign that simply stated Sam’s. Emma had heard about a new man taking over the existing business, but she hadn’t been aware that he’d changed the name. Thinking about it, she didn’t think she’d ever seen the man anywhere around in town. The gossip was that he was a bit of a mystery; a man running from a shady past.
Shaking off the silly town chatter, she pulled the visor down and checked her reflection in the mirror. Blue eyes blinked back at her as she touched up her lipstick, coating her lips in a shiny pink gloss. Satisfied that it’d have to do, she looked down at her outfit. She was a bit overdressed in one of her best suits, a black pencil skirt with a matching blazer, but she had wanted to make a good impression on any potential real estate agents she might have had the chance to meet. Now it would have to double as a presentable interview outfit. She would have liked to have chosen something a little more downscaled; but that choice had been taken out of her hands.
Climbing out of the car, she headed for the warehouse, her step faltering a little when she heard the loud blast of heavy metal music coming from indoors. “Great,” she muttered under her breath. She knocked once on the steel door and when she got no response, turned the handle and pushed it open. Expecting to find a middle-aged man with a pot belly bent over chiselling away at a walking stick, she was shocked when she was met with a view of the sexiest back she’d ever seen.
Naked from the waist up, a tall, built man with tattoos covering the sleeves of both his arms was currently bent over a work table, working an electric sander over the length of a long slate of wood. The roar of the machine explained the elevated volume of the music, it was difficult to hear herself think over all the noise in the shop. Not that she was able to form any sort of a coherent thought after drinking in the sight of him. A bead of sweat ran down his back and she had to force herself to stay in place and not chase after it with her tongue. Her pussy complained at her self-control, her thighs clenching together as she stared at him shamelessly. His dark hair was in serious need of a haircut; it was almost long enough to be tied up in a bun.
“Oh, my Jesus,” she breathed. If he had a beard…all bets were off. Even though she’d barely spoken, he must have heard her as his spine stiffened and he suddenly whirled around. The sander came with him and his quick action pulled the cord out of the wall, silencing the whirling sound. Their eyes clashed together and Emma took an involuntary step back at the jolt she felt go through her system. Sadly, he didn’t have a beard but he really didn’t need it with his sexy as hell full lips and straight nose. Sensation after sensation tingled down her spine as she stared at him; his dark gaze dropped down to her mouth and continued on down her body in a slow perusal. She was covered from head to toe, but she’d never felt more on display. Against her will, she mirrored his actions and let her eyes wander over every inch of him.
Dressed in a pair of black sweat pants riding low on his hips, his six-pack was the showcase piece of him as even the front of him was covered in sweat. Delicious, hot, wet, intoxicating sweat. He was buff in all the right places and Emma couldn’t help but pray that his package lived up to the rest of him. She could pull those pants down with just one tug…
“Is there something you want?” his hard voice interrupted her lustful thoughts. Embarrassed, she flushed.
“I—um, no. I don’t want you…I mean anything. I don’t want anything. This was a mistake, I’m sorry,” she stammered, turning to leave.
“Are you here about the job?” he called out before she had a chance to make her escape out the door. Mortified at her behavior, she took a few calming breaths before turning to face him once more.
“I was, yes. My name is Emma Danvers…I believe my uncle set this up.” The man nodded before turning his back on her and walking over to the radio to turn the music down.
“I’m Sam. It’s a full-time position—Monday to Friday. From time to time I may need help on a Saturday with some inventory, but we can work out those details as they arise. For the most part you’ll be answering calls and taking orders over the phone, coordinating pickups of finished pieces. It’ll just be you and me around here so you really don’t need to dress so,” he smirked at her outfit. “Efficiently.”
Emma bristled at his obvious mocking of her and was close to telling him that he could shove his sander where the sun didn’t shine, but then she remembered her uncle’s ultimatum. Gritting her teeth, she bit back her temper.
“It’s just a suit. I wanted to look presentable.”
“You look like you’re ready for some corporate espionage takeover.”
“A lot of women wear business suits.”
“You’re not an old lady, you don’t need to dress like one.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“That’s gonna be Mr. Asshole to you.”
“Not if I tell you and this job to shove it, you arrogant prick.” Emma knew she’d gone too far when his eyes got impossibly darker and he closed the di
stance between them in a few short movements. His toes bumped hers as he invaded her space, forcing her to crane her neck back to maintain eye contact. His scent invaded her nostrils, clean and fresh. Her breathing sped up and her pulse jumped as she watched his brows crash together in dark annoyance. This man was sexy as hell but there was something there, something simmering just under the surface that spoke of violence and a little bit of rage. She knew she should be scared—hell she should be running out the door as fast as her feet could carry her—but instead she was drawn towards it; towards him.
His big hands encircled her waist in a rough grasp and pulled her whole body until she crashed into him. They were molded together, his sweaty body claiming her as both their hearts beat in an erratic pace. His hands roamed up her back and then down again in an almost bruising way, as if his hands wanted to learn the feel of her. It was highly unusual but such a fucking turn on. Her pussy begged her to slip out of her panties and wave them in surrender. If he kept staring at her like he wanted to devour every inch of her; that was exactly what she was going to do.
“Monday.” he croaked. “You start on Monday.” As quickly as he’d grabbed her, he let her go and stepped back, dismissing her without another glance. Emma retreated out the door as soon as she was free, needing the time to compose herself.
“Well this should be an interesting job.” As her car pulled out onto the main road to head back home, she never noticed the second car merge in behind her, following at a close pace.
NIGHT HAD JUST fell when Sophia Kent stepped out of her apartment complex. Typically, in the evenings she could be found curled up on her couch watching her favorite Netflix re-runs after a long day of caring for patients at the retirement home she worked at. Tonight though, she was out of almost everything grocery wise and wouldn’t be able to eat the following day at work if she didn’t do some re-stocking. Her mother’s voice scolded her in her ear for falling so far behind on the day to day necessities, but she pushed it aside. At twenty-three, she was free to make her own decisions and if that meant that she wanted to eat peanut butter from a spoon all day; that’s what she’d do. But as the adult she thought she was, she couldn’t avoid the nagging in the back of her mind. Getting groceries and preparing meals for the week would be the only thing that would give her some peace so she could get back to the next episode of The 100. Her brown hair swung in a low ponytail as she walked, enjoying the warm evening air. The grocery store wasn’t far from her place and she arrived in minutes. Wandering the aisles, she filled her cart with items at random, not particularly paying attention to what she was picking up. Every so often, she got a tingle up her spine, an eerie feeling that she was being watched. Glancing around, she met the eyes of an elderly man who glared at her and she quickly looked away.
“Knock it off, Soph,” she chastised herself. Heading to the checkout, she looked down at her cart and groaned. She’d filled it to the top with who knew what. There was no way she’d be able to carry all of the bags back to her apartment. The line she was in had a changeover of cashiers and instead of the young school girl, she looked up into the smiling face of a rather handsome man.
“You look a little worried there,” he commented as she piled her items on the conveyor.
“Oh,” she sighed. “I was just trying to figure out how I’m going to carry all of these home,” she motioned at her groceries. “I might have to call for a taxi.”
The man offered her a warm smile and leaned in close. “You can take the cart if you want. I won’t say a word.” Sophia automatically returned his friendly smile.
“Really? That would be wonderful, thank you so much. With what I’m spending here, I don’t really have the extra cash to spend on a taxi. I promise I’ll bring the cart back.”
“I trust you. Something about that beautiful smile,” the cashier told her as he finished ringing her in. Sophia blushed and looked down, he really was handsome. “That’s $178.92, please.” Sophia paid him and then loaded her bags into the cart, thanking him again for allowing her to borrow it.
Starting the walk back to her apartment, she felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She had more than enough groceries now to last her the month and she’d even met a new man. If she wasn’t mistaken, he might have even been flirting with her. Maybe when she brought the cart back she would—
“Ahhh,” she cried out suddenly as she felt a harsh shove from behind. She lost her balance and stumbled forward, bashing her head on the handle of the steel cart. Seeing stars, she sank to her knees, landing hard on the concrete pavement. Before she had a chance to get her bearings, she was dragged back up to her feet and into the waiting alleyway between two buildings. Her cart continued on without her, as though it knew the way home on its own. Dazed, she called out. “Wait, my groceries…”
Something slipped around her neck and pulled tight and she was shoved up against the brick wall, her feet dangling beneath her as her attacker held her off the ground. Flailing her arms, she fought to break his hold, but she couldn’t get a good enough grip to knock him loose.
“You’re so beautiful, my love. I couldn’t help it. I had to see you. Have you missed me?” the voice was unfamiliar to her, but he was speaking as though he knew her. Blood dripped down her forehead into her eyes, blurring her vision. Blinking she tried to make out who had her, but the blood coated her lashes, making it hard for her to see. She sucked in a breath to scream for help but ended up only gasping as her pants and panties were ripped down her legs and two fingers filled her roughly.
“Oh, my sweet. You have missed me,” his breath was hot in her ear as he pumped his fingers in and out in a vicious pace.
Sophia squirmed and struggled finally getting enough air in her lungs to scream. “NO! Stop, help me! STOP!”
“Quiet, quiet!” he ordered. He pulled his fingers out of her and grabbed at the rope that was currently around her neck; tightening it. “This is our private moment. Why are you ruining it? I’m just trying to love you.” His eyes bored into hers the tighter he pulled the rope. Sophia gagged and gasped, desperate to breathe. The brick wall cut into her back brutally as she thrashed, panicked. Her hands alternated between beating on his shoulders and clawing at the rope. After a few minutes, it was no use and her body succumbed to the lack of oxygen, going slack in his arms.
When she was gone, he let her body sink to the ground before scooping her up. He retrieved the runaway grocery cart and after tossing her bags into the alley, he deposited her body in the cart and covered it with a discarded blanket found on the ground.
“Let’s get you home with the others, my love.”
EMMA HAD BEEN working for Sam for eight weeks and three days. She knew exactly how long it’d been as she was counting down the days when she would be free and clear of her uncle’s ridiculous plan and could finally start building a life for herself. It wasn’t that the job was hard, it actually was quite easy. Sam had built a pretty steady business from himself, despite being virtually invisible in their town. The customers had become loyal to him and that kept him going in repeat business and new clients as word of mouth spread that his work was quality.
Their interactions thus far had been limited to business related issues only. He’d shown her his invoicing system and how to order from the supplier in the next state, he’d taught her how to schedule his appointments based on his preferences and starting the following week he was going to allow her to start making the deposits at his bank.
She enjoyed it the most when the clients came to pick up their orders. There was a cute little elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor, that always brought her fresh flowers for her desk when they came in to pick up the bird houses they sold at the store in town. Mrs. Taylor always joked that her husband had a little extra sparkle in his eye for her. Then there was the overly flirty Cole Masterson that she knew always checked out her ass when she walked away to get the paperwork he needed to sign. More than once she’d noticed Sam watching their exchanges with his bro
ws snapped together and a hard-set jaw. Secretly, she hoped he was jealous; but the man kept his emotions hidden behind a damn steel door. There was hardly a time that she could tell what he was thinking.
With the exception of one misstep during the first week, they’d been completely professional the entire time. Each of them dancing around the issue of what she’d seen that one morning that she’d shown up early with coffees; intent on bridging some kind of friendship between them. Not finding him in the shop, she’d wandered up to the main house. It was only fifteen minutes before she was supposed to start her shift, so she wasn’t worried that he’d still be asleep. Knocking on the door, it swung open as soon as she made contact and shrugging, she’d stepped inside. “Sam? Sam, are you in here?” Not getting a response, she entered further into the house. Past the kitchen, she found him standing alone in the center of the living room holding something in his hands.
Walking over to him, she stopped a few feet away. It was a photograph of a beautiful smiling woman and was that…was that him with her? A very different looking Sam had his arms wrapped around the mystery woman. The two couldn’t have looked any happier. It was obvious they were very much in love. A stab of jealously shot through her and she quickly dismissed it. Who was she to be jealous over some woman she didn’t even know—over a man she knew even less. It was ridiculous.
She cleared her throat to get his attention, startling when he snapped to attention and pinned her to the spot with a blazing stare full of unbridled rage. “What the fucking fuck are you doing in my house?” He charged towards her, temper in every step. Shaking she hurried to back up and put distance between them as he ate up the space between them in seconds.
Repentance (The Darkness Series Book 4) Page 3
