by Paris Hansen
The Broken doll
An Inheriting Evil Novel
Paris Hansen
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The Broken Doll Copyright © 2021 by Paris Hansen.
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 permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
Cover designed by Passion Creations by Mary Ruth
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Paris Hansen
Visit my website at www.ParisHansen.com
CONTENTS
The Broken doll
CONTENTS
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
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Also By Paris Hansen
About the Author
Connect with Paris
Chapter One
It was a beautiful day to have a baby.
The sun was shining, washing away the rain from the day before. Nervous excitement coursed through him knowing today was the day. Rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans for what felt like the millionth time, he waited for his stomach to settle down. His hands trembled slightly, but he wasn’t worried. Once his plan was in motion, a sense of calm would settle over him.
It had to. He couldn’t let his nerves affect what he was about to do. Everything had to go smoothly. Failure wasn’t an option.
He couldn’t believe he was doing this again. Five years ago, he thought he’d put it all behind him, but he could never say no to her.
She always got what she wanted. No questions asked—no attempts at denial. He lived to take care of her every need.
Last time around, it had taken too long to get what she wanted. Through trial and error, he’d finally been able to place a baby in her arms. This time, he figured it would be easier. He knew what he was doing, even if he was a little rusty. All he had to do was get it right once, and she’d be happy again.
But he’d been wrong.
He got it right the first time, but she rejected his offering when he took the baby home. If he hadn’t been standing next to her, she would’ve dropped him. In that moment, he’d felt lost, confused. What had he done wrong? Why was she unhappy with what he’d brought her?
He knew he had to set out again and find her another one. And he had to do it fast before his inability to please her ruined their happy home.
Which was why he found himself sitting in his car on an unseasonably warm day at the end of April, watching and waiting. It was hard not to rush into things. He was already moving faster than he had the last time, but he was better prepared now than before. Instead of finding one, he’d found a handful, just in case something went wrong.
He knew time was of the essence. While he hoped he’d only end up needing one of them, he wanted to make sure he had a contingency plan; a back-up if something failed. He couldn’t wait around for weeks in between women while he made sure he knew the new one’s routine. She needed what they had now, not three weeks from now.
The one he watched now had originally been his third choice. The beautiful blonde he’d picked out to take second was special. So special he couldn’t bring himself to make a move on her. Not for this purpose anyway. He hoped to save her for something else entirely. Something better.
He wanted to save her for himself.
After following his target from her home, he watched as she ran errand after errand, waiting for the perfect place to grab her. When she pulled into the crowded parking lot of a popular local store, he knew it was the perfect place. The store was appropriately named, making him feel even better about the decision.
He watched her waddle toward the entrance, the trip taking her much longer than it should’ve, but she was so close to her due date he wasn’t surprised. She should’ve been home resting, not out doing all of the shopping by herself. He wondered what kind of man would leave his very pregnant wife to do the shopping on her own.
Whoever he was, by the end of the day, he’d regret letting her out of the house. He’d blame himself for what happened to her and their unborn child. If you asked him, her husband deserved all of the guilt he’d feel.
After an hour and a half, she finally emerged, pushing a fully loaded cart of goodies. The parking lot was busy, but not enough to keep him from going through with his plan. He didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t wait any longer. Too many things were riding on him getting what he needed from her.
Pulling his ball cap lower over his face, he got out and stood next to his van. The timing of his walk toward the store had to be just right. If he went too soon, he’d have to backtrack awkwardly. If he went too late, she’d be too close to her car, and he’d have to rush through his process.
He kept his head tilted down to avoid anyone else getting a good glimpse of his face, then started to make his way toward the store when she was a few feet from her car. The set up was near perfect. With his phone in his hand, he walked directly into the front of her cart, his phone dropping into her mess of bags as she hit him.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going. Are you okay?” he asked as he pointed at her pregnant belly.
Worrying about her well-being was the first step at winning her over. Turning on the charm was the next one. Anger distorted her features; her hands clenched so tightly around the handle of the cart her knuckles went from a lovely shade of brown to stark white. He gave her his best apologetic smile, the one that made him look like the boy next door.
The totally harmless boy next door.
It instantly did the trick. Her grip on the cart relaxed as she smiled back at him.
“It’s okay,” she shrugged. “It happens.”
He looked down at her
cart, then up at her, another smile plastered to his face. “Can I help you with your bags? It’s the least I can do. You look like you’ve been on your feet for a while now.”
She shook her head. “It’s okay, I’ve got it.”
Her insistence was half-hearted at best. He knew he almost had her right where he needed her. There was just one last thing he had to do, and it’d be game over.
“Please, it’ll help ease my guilt if I can give you a hand. Plus, my phone is somewhere in there, and I just don’t feel right digging through your stuff.”
He gave her another harmless smile as he pointed into the cart. It wouldn’t be hard to find his phone, and he didn’t really care about rummaging through her stuff but insisting otherwise would make him look like the gentleman he was trying to be. He stepped to the side, so he wasn’t blocking her cart, then waited for her to make a decision.
“Okay, thank you. I appreciate the help,” she said, exhaustion evident in her voice.
Everything was going according to plan, and it felt good. Just a few more steps and he’d be able to move to the next phase. He just hoped he didn’t jinx himself by thinking about how perfectly everything was going. That was the way his luck usually played out.
No matter how hard he tried to make sure things went exactly the way they should, something always inevitably went wrong. But that was the first time around. This time was different. This time he didn’t have to hurry through his moment with the women and risk the babies. He didn’t have to resort to the same methods as before.
Last time everything was frantic and chaotic. Now, he could slow down and make sure he did things right. There’d be no more accidents. No more wastefulness. He’d get what he needed from this woman and hope it was what she wanted. If it wasn’t, he’d start again with the next woman on the list.
He’d do whatever it took to make her happy. The woman standing next to him was a means to an end, a sacrifice for the greater good. Just like all the others before her. The situation was different, yet the same.
But this time around, it wouldn’t matter how much she screamed. Where he was taking her, there wasn’t another soul around to hear her.
Chapter Two
She didn’t want to die.
Not that anyone ever really wanted to die. But of all the ways she’d imagined her death in the past, cowering in the dark, her hair matted to her face with blood, wasn’t one of them. Running for her life from a psycho had never even crossed her mind.
And maybe that was part of the problem. She should’ve listened to her friends and family when they told her online dating wasn’t safe. It didn’t matter that she’d been dating the guy for a while. How well could you know someone after three months?
She could hear him looking for her. Not that he was quiet about it. He was toying with her, like the sadistic asshole he was. They both knew she wouldn’t make it out alive. There were only so many places she could run to, only so many places she could hide.
Like a cliché, her life flashed before her eyes. She’d never see her mom again. Never be wrapped in her father’s arms as he hugged her goodbye after a family dinner. She’d never see her nieces and nephew grow up. Never have kids of her own. All because she was so desperate to find love.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
His taunt let her know he was a lot closer than she realized. She froze, terror taking over her body. Her throat constricted, her hands starting to shake. She was going to die in this place, in the dark, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The pounding of her heart felt like someone knocking incessantly on a door. The sound of a dog barking in the distance gave her a semblance of false hope.
No one was going to save her.
The dog’s barking got louder, followed by a succession of loud thuds.
“Wait...what?” Sloane muttered as she hit the delete key a few times.
That wasn’t supposed to happen next. Her character was outside. Where the hell would loud thuds come from while she was running through the woods?
A rapid-fire pounding, followed by loud barking, answered her question.
“Damn it. What the hell?”
Leaning a little to her left, Sloane found her dog Apollo standing guard at her front door; his teeth bared as he growled at whoever woke him up from his nap. The door rattled as their unexpected visitor started knocking again.
She tried to ignore it, but whoever was at her door was bound and determined to get her to answer. The problem was nobody should’ve been at her door. The only person who’d have the balls to show up uninvited was her neighbor Richard, but even so, he wasn’t stupid enough to show up without calling first.
Unless there was an emergency.
The thought had her quickly getting up to answer the door. Apollo tried to nudge her aside as she approached, his big body blocking her from her destination. If Richard was the person on the other side of the door, Apollo would know. The older man was nearly as close to her dog as she was. Which meant whoever was on the other side was a stranger.
A stranger. At her cabin in the middle of the woods. On an island with less than a thousand people.
Sloane stood perfectly still a few feet from the door, hoping that whoever was there would go away if they thought she wasn’t home. She placed a silencing hand on her dog’s head as he sat by her side waiting for a command. The knocking had stopped as she approached, but she knew they hadn’t left since Apollo was still on guard.
When the knocking resumed, it startled her, making her jump. Her pissed off dog let out a long, loud growl, the hackles on the back of his neck standing straight up. Her heart hammered in her chest, keeping rhythm with the pounding.
Sloane let out a string of expletives before taking a deep breath, then letting it out slowly. Moving to the left, she opened the drawer in the table next to the door and pulled out her gun. While she carefully loaded it, she leaned against the door so she could look through the peephole.
Her breath caught for a second as she took in the person standing on her front porch. He was the last person she would’ve even considered a possibility as her unexpected visitor. For a moment, she contemplated putting her gun back in the drawer, then decided against it.
If he was going to drop by unannounced after four years, he needed to be prepared for a less than welcoming reception. After setting the gun on the table, she entered her alarm code into the keypad, then went about undoing the locks on the door. She started at the top with the reinforced door stopper, followed by the first of three deadbolts.
Taking a deep breath, she made quick work of the rest of the locks, then pulled the door jammer out from under the handle. Before opening the door, she picked her gun back up and gave Apollo the command to sit.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked as soon as the door was open enough for their guest to see her and her snarling dog.
The man’s eyes widened, his fist poised to make contact with the heavy oak door again. It took him a split second to recover. Then he was turning his charming smile in her direction. It wouldn’t work on her. He’d lost the ability to affect her years ago, yet she knew he had to try.
“Is that any way to speak to your husband?”
“Ex-husband. Emphasis on the ex part,” Sloane fought back a growl as she said the words. “What are you doing here, Reid? How did you find me?”
The smile never left his lips as he ran a hand over his short dirty blond hair. Playfulness danced in his blue eyes until his gaze dropped to take her in. Instead of checking out her body like he used to, his eyes focused on the gun in her right hand and the dog glaring at him on her left. His eyes darted up to meet hers, his demeanor shifting slightly.
“Come on, Sloane. You might not be an agent anymore, but you had to know the FBI would keep tabs on you. You’re too good of an asset to let slip through the cracks.”
She snorted. “Asset. I doubt that’s the word the FBI would use, but we can go with it.”
; Sloane hated admitting he was even a little bit right. She knew deep down when she left the FBI, they would never truly let her go. Not with her past. Not with what she’d done before she left. She was a liability now know matter how hard she tried to fly under the radar.
“Hope’s End, huh? Isn’t that a little too on the nose, even for you?”
“Fuck off, Reid.”
“You say the sweetest things.”
She rolled her eyes as Reid sent another smile her way, one that was certain to make most women swoon. But she wasn’t most women. She’d built up an immunity to Reid and his variety of smiles over the years. It was just too bad she hadn’t been immune to them when they’d first met. It might’ve saved her some trouble and the cost of a divorce.
Sighing heavily, she tapped her gun against the side of her leg, knowing it would grab his attention. Her jaw tightened, her molars grinding together. She’d been having such a good day before her past came knocking. Now she needed to figure out how to get rid of him.
“How do I get you to leave?” Sloane asked, trying to mask her hostility better. “I’ve got things to do, and Apollo here doesn’t seem all that happy to see you.”
“We need to talk, Lo.”
Her eyes narrowed at the use of the nickname he’d given her during better times. Appealing to her non-existent sentimental side, at least where he was concerned, wasn’t going to help his situation.
“I assumed that’s why you were gracing me with your presence after all these years.”
Reid sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. She took a good look at him then and noticed the bags under his eyes, the exhaustion clouding his otherwise brilliant blue gaze. Though he was dressed in his usual special agent uniform, the suit was disheveled, the tie loose and off-kilter, like he’d slept in the outfit the night before. Reid had aged since the last time she saw him, more than the four years it had been since she’d walked past him on her way out of the FBI field office, though he was still ruggedly handsome if you liked that sort of thing.
