Forever Marked (Marked Series Book 1)

by Jesse Lorenzo

  Copyright © 2015 by Jesse Lorenzo

  All rights reserved worldwide

  Cover Copyright © Airicka’s Mystical Creations

  www.AirickaPhoenix.com

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  This publication is protected under the US Copyright Act of 1976 and all other applicable international, federal, state, and local laws.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, stored in a database or retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the express written permission of the author.

  Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if we use one of these terms.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Dedication

  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

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Sneak Peek from B.A. Dillon

  Sneak Peek from Sam Destiny

  To my three beautiful daughters,

  Jazlyn, Veronica, and Marcela:

  Dream big and reach for the stars!

  Mommy loves you!

  Now was her chance. She took advantage of the momentary distraction gifted to her and wrenched herself from his vice-like grip. Fighting him off, she clawed her way to her feet. Her short nails ripped painfully in her effort to get away. Mustering up all the strength she had, she raced to get out of the tiny room. She didn’t get very far, her momentum suddenly halted when she felt a punching blow and then a dragging pain slash down her back. She shrieked out as the intense burning sensation traveled through every nerve in her body. Only then did she realize that her flesh had been flayed opened, exposed.

  A draft cooled the warm flowing blood as it soaked her shirt. The horrific realization of what'd been done momentarily froze her forward progress. She heard him stumble from the barbaric force of his blow. It’s now or never! Adrenaline flooded her system, sending a jolt of energy to her frozen legs. The sudden rush helped to propel her forward. She sprinted through the door and raced down the hallway as fast her legs could carry her. Panic rose up inside her when she heard his heavy footsteps pounding on the hardwood floors, gaining on her fast. She knew that if she couldn’t make it out of here now, she’d never survive. That debilitating fear twisted inside her gut, making her feel sick. It didn't matter how fast she ran, he was always right behind her.

  His powerful presence echoed around the eerily empty house as he chased close behind her. She shook uncontrollably when she made it to the stairs. If she could just reach the door, she might have a chance. Reaching out, she grabbed the railing with both hands, using the leverage to fly down the steps. She skipped so many steps, it felt like flying. Her heart hammered inside her chest painfully as it worked hard to push her broken body to its limits. Her ears throbbed as he screamed out her name over and over. He was right behind her. She could smell his rancid panting over her shoulder, the stench stung her nose. She risked looking back. His large black eyes, fierce with anger, were just a few feet behind her and closing in quickly. He was close enough to grab her, a monster zeroing in on his prey. Hyperventilating, her lungs stung with the effort to forcefully pull air in and out. Oh My God, this is it! He reached out… And…

  Ellora jumped up and almost fell out of her seat, gasping in the air she must’ve been holding. She pulled in several more deep breaths and took a look around. Everyone on the plane was openly gawking at her. They looked shocked and disturbed. Realization dawned; she must’ve shrieked out in her nightmare. Extremely embarrassed, Ellora turned her attention to her clenched fists, still clammy and shaking. “Get a grip, Lor,” she muttered to herself.

  It took several minutes more to calm her nerves. When the embarrassment subsided, she let her eyes roam around the cramped cabin in coach. The tight seating used to feel so uncomfortable and annoying, but at a time like this, the crowded seats gave Ellora a much-needed sense of security. Relief washed over her as she realized that she was halfway to her destination. She was headed to Scotland, as far away from Syracuse, NY, as she was able to go, to the place where her parents were born and raised.

  He shouldn't be able to find her there. After all, her mother and father were very tight-lipped about their upbringing. With their passing, and Ellora being their only child, no one could tell him either... He couldn’t find out!

  Ellora hadn’t stopped looking over her shoulder since her brutal attack. Every time she turned a corner, she couldn’t help but think he would jump out at her and finish what he had started. Her anxiety rose as she thought about the monster who nearly killed her. Did he know she left? Was he on this very plane, just biding his time until he could get his hands on her? The very thought of him hiding in the shadows, watching her, made the hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention.

  Closing her eyes, Ellora secretly willed the plane to go faster; the sooner she got there, the better her chances were of hiding herself away. She thought back to all the events that led up to her escape and prayed she hadn’t left behind any clues as to where she was headed in her hasty escape.

  The thought of starting her life over from scratch, and doing it alone, frightened her. “You can do this, Lor. You’re almost there,” she chanted to herself. After all, starting from zero was easy when you had nothing left to lose.

  Inverness, Scotland

  Bus Terminal

  Exhausted from the long flight, Ellora was actually looking forward to the scenic bus ride. As she waited for the Citylink bus to come around, she took another look at the pamphlet in her hand. It read: The Isle of Skye is world famous for its natural beauty, history, romance, and legendary folklore. It offers a truly unforgettable experience -- a real adventure among jagged mountains, sweeping moors, and dramatic waterfalls. In two hours and thirty minutes, the bus would arrive in Portree Harbor, the largest town in Skye, population two thousand five hundred. Plus one. Ellora’s new home.

  “Damn it! What am I going to do now?” Ellora complained to herself. Her pace quickened as she navigated her way down the pier on Quay Street. The sun was setting, and the cold, icy rain drizzled down, drenching her. Cold, miserable and starving, Ellora desperately needed somewhere to hole up while she tried to figure out her next viable option. She tried every B&B on the harbor, but there were no rooms available. She just about gave up hope, when she spotted a run-down looking pub. It was si
tuated at the end of Quay Street and the corner of Beaumont Crescent. Grady's… It looked like there was more to the sign, but the rest had long since fallen off. In comparison to the rest of the Portree Harbor row buildings, this last one wasn’t at all bright with color and charm; it rather looked like a dreary afterthought, and a dismal one at that. “Well,” she mumbled to herself, “there's no point standing out here in the rain.”

  Of course, she tripped on the damaged doorstop, letting a few un-ladylike curse words fall from her lips. Frustrated, Ellora roughly dragged in the wet luggage behind her -- definitely not the grand entrance she was hoping for. She looked around the dimly lit bar, and sure enough, she’d captured the attention of the locals inside. They all wore curious, amused expressions. Ellora smiled, inwardly laughing at herself and thought, I must look like a complete fool.

  “Grady, ya old goat, give us a spot more o’ that ale. The day's been a long ’en.” Old man Grady finished drying some more mugs and shuffled over to fill up the guys' mugs. He'd been daydreaming all day, worry creasing his brow. The pub was falling apart, and he was behind in all his payments. His wife used to be in charge of all the business and goings on there. All he was good for was pouring a mean drink. With her passing, he’d let his grief take over his life.

  Catie had been barren, so they hadn't children to dote on. He was truly alone. Grady ran his calloused, over-worked hands through his scruffy un-kept hair, and blew out a frustrated breath. Catie would’ve given him a fierce tongue lashing at how he'd let this place go. After all, the pub had been her pride and joy. He was thankful for the help that’d been given to him since Catie's passing.

  His younger brother, Gerard, had been running the kitchen when folks ordered something more than the liquid meal. Gerard's wife, Kristy, ran the B&B next door. She'd been helping Grady with the bookkeeping mess he had ignored for so long. Only Grady's loyal regulars came around anymore. The dilapidated pub wasn’t appealing to the tourists visiting the harbor, especially since there were plenty on the pier to choose from.

  Grady looked out over the bar at his devoted regulars and friends. Every night, come rain or shine, six-thirty at the earliest, the same four guys started pouring in to wind down the day. Behr operated his own ferry boat to and from the mainland and islands for the tourists, and the occasional local. Gavin, Behr's longtime friend, was kin to the owners of the Portree Harbor Ferry terminal. Lachlan worked at the Portree Medical Practice on Bank Street. Last, but not least, there was Patrick, Grady's ol' friend from childhood, who worked at the Portree Fire Station on Martin Crescent. Yep, if his ship was going down, these fine lads would go down, too, with a drink in their hands no doubt.

  No, no, no! Grady thought, mentally shaking his head. He won't let down Catie, or these fine folks. He was just going to have to get off his miserable arse and think of something. Grady heard the pub door fly open with a crash and the mumbled curses that followed. He glanced over the four lads on their stools to a curious sight, the same four following his gaze to the door.

  Fumbling over the doorstop, dripping wet with equally drenched luggage in tow, was a lost tourist if the looks of her were any indication. The lass looked around, gave a slight tilt of her head, and smirked. This was going to be an interesting night. By the look in her eyes, she was definitely no ordinary tourist. She lifted her head up and squared her shoulders before strolling across the room, mindful of the tables while struggling to maneuver her luggage around them. She successfully made her way up to the bar and set herself down on a stool in between Gavin and Behr.

  She was a wee petite little thing, not more than five feet and four inches. Aye, and a pretty lass she was, with her raven black hair. It was long, straight, and shining like sheet metal. He took her in as she positioned her belongings close by. The lass was blessed with elegant features; her fair skin was the color of warm cream, with the palest hint of freckles, maybe four or five lightly dappled on each cheek. She blushed when she caught Grady staring, as did he.

  The wee lass looked Grady straight in his eyes, dazzling him with hers. They were as green as the Isle countryside. She confidently ordered a hearty ale. Grady shuffled about, getting a pitcher and a dark rich brew to warm her drenched bones. Aye, a pitcher will do just fine, as he could see there was an interesting story to be told. He poured her a glass and placed the pitcher down by her mug. While she removed her damp overcoat, Grady found that she carried a delicate frame about her as well. She was thin but not skinny, with subtle curves that gave her body a softness he thought every woman should possess -- softness his Catie used to have.

  With a look about, Grady could see he wasn’t the only man interested in hearing about the wee lass' story. Even Gerard and Kristy were peeking their heads 'round the back, awaiting her tale. No one more so than Behr. Sitting to her right, a look of concern crossed his eyes, as did a flicker of attraction. He took his time and searched over her, from top to bottom. With that obvious gesture, Gavin flashed Behr an amused crooked smile. Grady smiled as well. Aye, there was something different about this girl.

  Patrick nodded at their wee guest. “Ya movin' in, lass?” He chuckled dryly.

  “With any luck, I just might,” Ellora mumbled under her breath. Geez, wouldn't that just solve all her problems…

  Ellora’s Mother told her years ago that this small town was friendly with tourists, but guarded with any newcomers. She was going to have to open up to their curious questions and answer as honestly as she could. And just maybe, they would accept her enough to offer up a place to stay for the night. Otherwise, she was going to have to get real cozy on the bench seat in the corner. Here goes nothing, she thought. Taking a big swig of the rich, dark brown ale she’d been offered, she put on her most charming smile.

  “My name's Ellora Belle Sutherland.” She extended her hand to the short man with the balding reddish hair and kind blue eyes.

  “Grady's m’name, Grady McAndrews, an’ this ’ere’s m’pub.” He reached out and grabbed her hand, giving it a firm shake, and nodded his head in greeting.

  “Aye, what's left o’ it,” teased an older brawny man that sat at the end of the bar.

  “Aye, Patty, and there won't be much left o’ you, if you don't mind your tongue,” Grady snapped back.

  “So, tell us your tale, lass. Should be a good ’en. A young filly like you hardly comes strolling into this pub, nae alone,” observed the younger man to her left. He wore a crooked smile and had a cocky air about him. He was definitely a handsome man, almost too good looking. Definitely a pretty boy. He was tall and lean with an athletic build. Winking at the new girl flirtatiously, he ran his hands through his thick, brown unruly hair, the action making it stick up in spikes. Ellora was used to her parents’ thick accents, but she found herself struggling to keep up with their fast-paced dialog. It didn’t help that they kept interrupting each other, either.

  “Geez, where do I begin?” Ellora asked out loud, mostly to herself. “My mother and father grew up here. They used to run a Bed and Breakfast right here on the pier. Whe...”

  Grady interrupted her before she could even finish her sentence. “Is that right?”

  “Well,” Gavin butted in, “the only one running the B&B around here is Kristy, an’ she's back there.”

  “Aye, that's the truth,” Patrick jumped in. “You must be lost, woman, or sick with the rain soaking ya. So whatcha’ doing ’ere?”

  “Well,” Ellora rushed, in a hurry to get the words out before she was interrupted again. “They left for New York when my mother found out she was pregnant with me. I think the B&B next door was the very same one my mother worked in. It looks just like the one she showed me in a picture once. I am a fool, though, for thinking it might still be vacant after all this time.”

  “Is that so?” Grady mumbled, deep in thought. “Hmmm…” He rubbed his chin, looking up to the rafters then back at Ellora. He stared for an uncomfortable moment, searching for some unknown thing in her eyes. “What's the name o’ you
r da and ma, love?” he questioned thoughtfully.

  Ellora hesitated for just a brief moment before answering him. “My mother’s name before she was married was BonniBelle MacLeod. My father's name was Joseph Michael Sutherland.”

  “BB and Joe, aye, so they did, twenty years or so ago. Patty, you remember, don'tcha? BB worked the Bed and Breakfast, and Joe at the hardware store. Aye, Joe could fix up anything that was broken faster than the rain could fall. High school sweethearts they were. I thought I recognized you a bit. You have the look of your ma, but I can see a bit of your da peekin’ out,” Grady observed excitedly.

  Patrick gave an assertive nod. “Aye, they were good people. Many ’ere were sad to see ’em both off. Did they tell ya why they left so sudden, and hadn’t even left a soul in charge?” he pressed her further.

  Ellora was instantly relieved that these people not only knew her parents, but used to be good friends with them as well. Now that she wasn’t blinded by her nerves, she actually remembered some of their names from the many stories she was told growing up. Responding to Patrick’s previous question, she shook her head. “No, my father just told me he wanted his child to have more than what he had growing up. But my mother said it was his dream to go to the U.S. There were bigger and better opportunities that awaited him. She, on the other hand, loved it here. She told me so many times, and also how much she wanted to come back. She spoke of this town so fondly, which is the reason I decided to come here.”

  This answer was mixed with the truth and a lie. She had practiced her answer many times in her head, knowing she’d be asked. It was the truth, because her mother really was enamored with this town and always promised she’d bring Ellora here someday, and because she had always wanted to move here. But, it was a lie because those weren’t the reasons she was standing there now.