by Alison Mello
“Well, you’ve heard from Niall, Gabriel, and Chayton, and last to speak is my good friend, Mr. Rafe Bryant Peyton. Congratulations.”
Summer sat, eyes locked on Rafe as her heart pounded. Peyton? She frowned, but as Rafe received the microphone, she couldn’t help but be drawn to his mesmerizing voice. He talked about his Navy SEAL training and his routine for every day and how his knowledge and experience would provide a realistic and daring adventure for those brave enough to venture into the wilderness. The audience clapped and laughed. He held everyone’s rapt attention, including hers, but his final statement held her captive.
“There are five basic rules to survival. Some are obvious, such as finding shelter, getting water, establishing communication, and providing food, but the most important one by far and the one often overlooked is having the will. And by that, I mean the will and drive to live. To never give up. When you are in the worst-case scenario—bullets flying past, explosions detonating, people dying—a strong team with such strength of character is what keeps you going. Finding a partner who is mentally strong, positive, and willing to adapt to any given situation is vital to survival. I have discovered those qualities in Summer Hamilton, without whom I wouldn’t want to survive. Fortunately, for me, she has agreed to be my wife. Please raise a toast to my bride-to-be. Summer, come here.”
Wishing the ground would swallow her up whole, she slid her gaze at Nicki and back at Rafe, who beckoned for her to join him. Her stomach sank. Taking a quick sip of the champagne thrust into her hand by Nicki, she stood on shaky legs as loud yells and whistles called out around her. With her eyes trained on Rafe, tears filled them, but she managed to make it across the floor. In the dim lights, she stood in front of Rafe with her back to the cheering crowd, and he cupped her chin.
“You’re my inspiration, Summer. You give me the will to carry on.”
Summer pressed her palm flat against his cheek, seeing love in his eyes, but also fear as he frowned. For what, she wasn’t sure. “I’m yours. I love you, for better or worse.”
“I hope you don’t regret that—Peyton is my proper surname, and with it comes no end of trouble. You think your parents have issues, wait until you meet mine. No more secrets.”
Rafe lowered his head and captured her lips with his, preventing any further discussion as the crowd clapped around them with rapturous applause.
THE END
About the Author
J.M. Davies, Jen, is originally from Wales in the UK, but now lives with her family in a small town in New England close to the city of Boston, the coast, and the mountains. Both countries are huge sources of inspiration for her writing. Since she could read, Jen has enjoyed an eclectic taste in books, but loves all thing’s romance, and from her love of the written word stemmed from the desire to create her own satisfying stories. Although, a shortie at only five feet tall, she has a big heart and hopes that is evident in her storytelling.
She is mom to four boys, five, if you include her husband, an adorable rescue hound called Ella, and two cats, Skittles and Blackjack. Yup, you guessed it; she has a sweet tooth, and loves chocolate—mostly Cadburys! When she isn’t writing paranormal or contemporary romance, Jen manages a local writers group called Writers Supporting Writers on FB as she loves inspiring others to pursue their dream. She also loves discovering old treasures at yard sales and revamping them, watching Grey’s Anatomy, and When the Heart Calls, walking on the beach, cooking, road biking and when there’s time the gym. She loves to chat to readers and below are some ways to stay in touch with the latest news about her books and competitions.
If you haven’t read any of Jen’s books sign-up for her newsletter, and you’ll be entered in a draw for a free book!
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/Jennifer-Owen-Davies-YA-J-M-Davies-Adult-1421409368089313/
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House of Refuge
By Jamie Lynn Boothe
Chapter 1
Trinity
“I’ve told you over and over I don’t want you going! Why will you not listen to me?” Immediately after his harsh words Trinity feels the back of Derrick’s hand connect fiercely with her left cheek, knocking her to the ground. “You will not be going!”
She lies motionless and trembling in front of him, scared of what will happen if she upsets him further; the sting throbs on her cheek and fresh tears flow. Her face almost touches the lush carpet and her breathing is rapid. She knows she will have another bruise. It won’t be the first time nor the last unless she can find some way out. She knows better than to talk back; it is useless. When he gets angry, he’s in control. What he says matters—nothing else.
Derrick, her boyfriend, has been beating her for over a year, but it’s gotten worse ever since she started going to church. He does his best to control her, and that’s another way of doing so. She slowly and painfully pushes herself up from the floor without arguing and quietly shuffles into the bathroom. When she sees the image of herself in the mirror, she takes deep breaths and shakes her hands to calm herself, willing the tears to stop. She’s angry and tired. Tired of getting beat on and sick of living in fear. If she doesn’t find some way out of here soon, he will put her in the hospital again, or kill her.
It’s Friday. She simply asked Derrick if she could go to church on Sunday. She doesn’t think she should have to ask permission, but he controls everything she does. It wasn’t always that way. Once upon a time she was madly in love with someone she thought was a good man. She hasn’t felt that love in a long time, but fear keeps her bound to him. Fear and the fact she doesn’t have any help or a place to go.
She dabs at her quickly swelling lip with a cold washcloth to stop the bleeding and winces. The pain makes her hate him more than ever. Hatred for any living being is something she despises, but she can’t help it. Right now, she hates him. She’s never understood how someone can hurt the person they are supposed to love. Love doesn’t include control and abuse. She stares at herself and shakes her head, wondering for the hundredth time how things ever turned out this way. After a moment she decides to start getting ready because in a couple hours he will want to leave for the bar. She has no desire to go, but doesn’t have a choice. She undresses and takes her shower, wishing for the soap and water to wash away the feelings he causes in her, but she knows that isn’t possible.
“God…please, help me! I beg you to get me out of the horror I live in. Please!” She whispers quietly beneath the sound of the water. “You are the only One who can help me and I badly need You now.” When she’s finished, she gets dressed before applying make-up. Derrick doesn’t like her wearing too much, but her left eye still has some discoloration from when he hit her last week. He will want that covered so nobody notices. She tries putting mascara on, but her hand trembles.
“Control girl, get control,” she whispers to herself as she wills her hand to be still, taking deep breaths and holding back the tears threatening to escape. After a couple of smudges and wiping, she finally succeeds and looks at herself in the mirror. She used to think of herself as an attractive woman. A strong woman of color who had dreams of being a success in the world, a woman with aspirations. But when a person gets beat down enough their hopes begin to dwindle. As she stares at herself she realizes her best features are her green eyes and her smile. That is, when her lips and face aren’t bruised, split and bleeding.
Her friends, who are no longer around thanks to Derrick, told her she should be a model. She even considered it once, but fell in love with being the one taking the pictures. She loves being outside and capturing scenes of humanity and natu
re. She loves to feel the sun on her skin as the wind blows, or the sound as rain pounds the ground and the skies are filled with brilliant lightning. Even those dreams are beginning to fade; her entire life is dying. Sometimes, it feels like it’s spiraling downward, out of control.
Apparently she loses track of time because Derrick starts knocking on the door, asking how much longer she will be. He wants to get something to eat before they go to the bar. The hard impact of his fist on the bathroom door causes her to jump and she almost knocks her makeup on the floor.
“I’ll be right out,” she answers through the door.
“God, please get me through this night. Please, help me, however You may.” After another quick prayer she opens the door and walks out to be part of a life she no longer desires.
***
The ride to the bar is uncomfortable as usual, but this time it feels worse. The entire journey she has tingling sensations throughout her body. She doesn’t know if it’s from dread or from her heart pounding so hard. She’s amazed the sound of her heart beating doesn’t override the music from the speakers. She doesn’t want to talk to him about anything, but he acts as if everything is fine between them. As if he didn’t do anything wrong. He won’t shut up about needing a few drinks and jamming out to some music. He also says he has some business to take care of, but she doesn’t know what he means by that. She has a feeling that whatever it is, she won’t like it.
The rain intensifies as they drive into the sparsely lit parking lot. The quarter-size raindrops beat relentlessly onto the blacktop as they ease past other vehicles in search of an empty space close to the door. The sound hitting the roof above them is so loud and rhythmic she has a sort of spiritual feeling God is telling her something, but she pushes the thought to the back of her mind.
At least the sound drowns out some of Derrick’s chatter.
When they finally find a parking spot, they reluctantly leave the warm and dry space within the car and hurry through the pouring rain, heads covered with their jackets. They enter the busy club and shake off the excess water. Music is blaring and people appear to be having a good time. They push their way through the crowd to the bar and he orders for them both. He knows she doesn’t like to drink, but he buys her a margarita anyway, with no concern for what she wants.
With drinks in hand they watch the crowd on the dance floor and in the surrounding area until a pool table is available. She sips on her bitter-tasting drink and observes the men and women swaying and dancing to the music. She shouldn’t call this place a club. It’s actually more of a bar with a dance floor and high hopes of business picking up. The owners have tried everything they can. This time they thought adding moving overhead lights and mirrors on the walls for the “clubbing effect” would help. She doesn’t like it, but for some reason Derrick does.
They find a small table with chairs near the pool tables. She has to admit that’s the only thing she does enjoy doing with Derrick—playing pool. She is better than him but has to downplay most of the time, purposely missing easy shots. She knows what will happen when they get home if he doesn’t win almost all the games, especially if he has too much to drink. The games he’ll want to play then will consist of either beating her or rough sex; usually both. She prefers losing at pool than losing a tooth.
By the time they play three games he is already starting on his third beer. It is going to be a long night; in her head, she is trying to think of a way to get away, to run from him forever. Halfway through the fourth game, two of his friends saunter in and make their way over. When she sees them she has a good idea what he means by “business.” She ignores them as they talk because she knows they are drug dealers and doesn’t want anything to do with them or their “business.”
She sits at the table, the game forgotten, and looks at her drink, wishing she could buy herself a soda or ginger ale. What she sees next she can’t believe. In front of everyone, Derrick hands one of his friends a wad of money and receives something in return. She doesn’t know exactly what it is, but she is sure it’s a drug of some type. Probably marijuana, which she despises.
She’s had enough of this life. She has to find some way out. She watches the crowd and searches her fearful brain for an idea, any idea. If the opportunity shows itself she will run in an instant. She will turn tail, go somewhere and forget about everything she has in Torrington, Connecticut. It’s all material things and can be replaced. She has no family here and the life she has isn’t worth living. She remembers her prayer in the bathroom at home and hopes what she asked for will be very soon. Her prayer is answered a lot sooner than she anticipates.
Derrick steps away from his two friends over to where she’s sitting and yells over the music. “Are you having a good time, babe?” She knows she has to lie so she nods. “Good.” His eyes turn serious. “I have something to do, but I won’t be long. Stay right here.”
She watches him walk over and talk to the bartender and his two friends disappear into the crowd. She has no clue what he is talking to the guy about, but she sees the bartender look around then lets him into the office behind the bar. Her heart suddenly begins beating furiously; she feels God pulling on her. She knows right then that she is going to do the unimaginable. She can’t believe it’s happening so fast; she doesn’t have a plan or a place to go nor does she have her car, but she can’t take it any longer. She feels an overwhelming urge to take action immediately so she’s going to run for it. She knows what the consequences will be if he catches her, but she doesn’t care anymore. She’s out of there.
Frantically, she grabs her jacket and weaves her way through the crowd. With each step, someone seems to squash her and bump into her. Her mind starts yelling that she won’t make it in time, but she doesn’t slow or stop. She can feel something or someone pulling on her heart and soul, telling her to keep putting one foot in front of the other. When she finally reaches the door she rushes through it, out into the storm. With the skies covered with clouds and only a few overhead lamps in the lot, there isn’t much light. The rain hasn’t eased but she doesn’t allow that to keep her beneath the awning.
She rushes out into the night without a clue where to go. The rain soaks through instantly as she looks for some place to hide. Without time to think, she runs from car to car trying to find one unlocked. She tries one last car before giving up hope. The back door opens, she falls into it, and slams the door behind her. Seconds later she can hear someone screaming her name. Someone who is filled with anger and hatred and wants to hurt her.
***
Derrick
In the office behind the bar Derrick looks at what lies in front of him. “So this is the best you have?” Derrick asks. It’s the first time he’s met this supplier, but rumor is he’s the man to get stuff from.
“It’s the best that can be got,” the man replies.
“How much for an ounce?” he asks as he holds the bag of white powder gently in his palm.
“One thousand dollars and that’s a steal. I want your business so I’m giving you a first time buyer’s special.”
Scratching the stubble on his chin, Derrick thinks it over for a moment and decides to go ahead and make the buy. If he isn’t happy with the sales, he can always find someone else next time; he’s always good about finding connections. He knows he will make a decent profit on the streets and from a few guys at work so he isn’t too worried. He hands the man cash, deposits the bag in the inside pocket of his jacket, and looks at the clock on the wall. Five minutes is how long he’s been in there. He doesn’t like leaving Trinity alone for very long—he never knows who might be hitting on his property.
“I’ll get back to you when I need more.” Derrick walks back out to the loud music and lights. Trinity isn’t sitting where she was told to stay and his temper flares. He walks toward their table and searches the room as he goes. He isn’t happy and has a bad feeling, but gives her the benefit of the doubt; she may be in the restroom. He waits a few minutes, then checks
the restrooms, waiting for someone to either come out or go in so he can check on Trinity. Derrick catches a gorgeous brunette on her way out and describes Trinity, but the woman says there isn’t anyone else in there. The sounds of the crowd and music that earlier were too loud are no longer of any interest to him. With clenched fists and boiling blood he runs outside, into the rain, searching for her. He screams her name as he runs around the parking lot, getting soaking wet. If he gets his hands on her, she will never forget the beating to come when they get home.
Chapter 2
Trinity
The fear running through Trinity’s veins as she hides in a stranger’s car is the most powerful force she has ever experienced.
Powerful is an understatement. What she’s doing is the unthinkable, something she never thought she would have the courage to do. If he finds her she is as good as dead. Listening to the rain beating down on the roof of the car, Trinity feels like she’s inside a thin tin can, like a sardine in one of the small containers her father used to enjoy eating. Trembling and quiet as a mouse she can still hear Derrick screaming her name, getting too close for comfort as he searches the parking lot. Thankfully, the lighting in the parking lot is dismal and she fled a few minutes before he had any chance to know she was gone. She can’t believe how fortunate she is to have found an unlocked car. She hopes whoever owns it doesn’t return anytime soon.
Trinity does her best to be quiet as she shivers and lies on the floor of the car. She’s soaking wet from head to toe and beginning to get a cramp in her side from how she is positioned. She’s scared for her life and doesn’t realize it’s highly unlikely he will hear her teeth chattering.
