Forbidden: A Romance Anthology

by Yolanda Olson

  He was rage personified. I should have known he was capable of the anger pouring out of him. But I’d pushed it—pushed him—to this point.

  “This is my house!” He roared, slapping the leather against my hands on my face. I slid down the door, the wetness on my shoulder causing a squeaking sound. “You live by my rules and respect me!”

  He gave me one final lashing across the back of my legs and halted. His breaths were heavy, the only sound in the room apart from my crying. I didn’t move my hands, didn’t make a single move, not until his footsteps echoed out of the room and the door closed behind him.

  He dealt his punishment and walked away. Just. Like. That. It didn’t bother him, didn’t matter to him, not one bit.

  I sobbed, regretting the way it made my face move and the pain it caused. I swallowed, telling myself I needed to get out of here. I couldn’t stay here, not now, not after what he’d done. It was time…time I left. Time I started the life I wanted to live. I was done letting him have all the control he wanted.

  My hands gripped onto the wooden floor and I pushed down on them, trying to stand on shaky legs. I swayed to the side and blinked as more blood flowed over my face and my eye. My palms were covered in bright red, my legs stung, and my back screamed in pain.

  The leggings I’d put on when I’d gotten home were ripped in several places, and blood spatters covered the front of my lilac T-shirt. I needed to get changed, I needed to look at the damage he’d caused, but I didn’t have time.

  My hand slid over the white walls of the hallway, and distant voices rang though my ears. My heart raced in my chest, my body demanding I get out as soon as I could. I stumbled at the top of the stairs and gasped as my vision came in and out.

  The front door was so close. My escape only meters away.

  “Haisley? What happened?”

  I turned to look at Sophia and her pale face, but her eyes told me she knew what had happened. She knew my dad nearly as well as I did. I glanced back at the door, hearing heavy footsteps from behind Sophia, and I knew this was my only chance. It was time I put myself first. So I darted down the stairs, flung the door open, and sprinted out of there.

  I fell several times making it up the driveway, but as soon as I was past the main gates, I could finally take a full breath. I was gone—out of his clutches, and all on my own.

  Free. I was finally free.

  JAX

  I threw my leg over my bike, turned the ignition on, and felt the roaring engine vibrating under me. There was nothing like the raw power of a machine between your thighs and the open road ahead. I hadn’t rode aimlessly, not since I’d come home from the marines. And right then, I needed it. I needed the air to whip under my cut, the endless road in front of me. I needed space to think. Which was why I’d decided to go out on the run this weekend, which meant I needed to tie up some loose ends at the strip club before we left.

  I clipped my helmet in place, kicked the stand up, then lifted my feet to place on the footrests. I was about to pull away from outside the clubhouse when one of the prospects darted from inside and halted in front of me.

  “Jax.” He held his stomach, trying to take a breath, and I raised my brow at him. “Al called. He needs you to head toward Pink Feather.”

  “What?” My back straightened. “Why? What’s happened?”

  “I don’t know.” He placed his hands on his thighs, still trying to catch his breath. The guy needed to do some goddamn workouts. “He said he’s on the main road and that you’ll see him if you make your way there. Sounded urgent.”

  “Move the fuck out of my way then, Prospect,” I fumed, fed up with watching him trying to fuckin’ breathe.

  “Right, sorry.” He jumped to the side and I flicked my wrist and moved my hand on the accelerator, peeling out of the make shift lot toward the strip club. It was only a ten minute drive, but I made it in five. Al had been going out on more rides since the incident with Haisley, which meant I’d barely seen him. I drove around the back of the strip club but still couldn’t see them. Where the fuck was he? I was starting to get antsy, not knowing what I was going to find when I finally saw him.

  My cell vibrated in my pocket and I yanked it out, seeing Al’s name on it. “Bro—”

  “On the main road. She won’t let me help her.”

  “What? Who won’t…Al? Al?” I pulled my cell away and cursed when I realized he’d dropped the call. What the fuck was going on? I shook my head and sped out onto the main road, searching for Al’s bike, then finally I spotted it, halfway between the club and the gas station.

  I frowned as I saw him standing there, his hands in the air in front of him. I pulled off to the right and parked next to his bike then switched my engine off. Why the hell was he here? And why did he need—

  “I promise I won’t hurt you,” he said, his voice calm. This was the Al I’d grown up with. The Al we all knew. All he ever wanted was to help everyone around him. “I was having an episode when I did that to you. That’s not me, it’s not who I am.”

  “Just leave me alone,” a small voice replied, and my body jerked from the sound. Haisley. What was she doing— “Please,” she sobbed out.

  I rushed forward, coming into view, and Al turned his head to face me. “I found her wandering down the side of the road.” I swallowed at his words and glanced at Haisley, feeling like my whole world was tumbling down. “She’s in a bad way.”

  He wasn’t wrong. Her face was swollen and half covered in blood, her T-shirt had patches of red, and her leggings were ripped in several places.

  “Hais,” I whispered, stepping forward. She held her hands up, trying to protect herself, and I knew right then and there that I couldn’t walk away from her. I’d taken her without her permission. I’d started all of this. But I wouldn’t regret it. I wouldn’t regret touching her, feeling her, needing her. “What happened, sugar?”

  Her stare met mine and I winced at the cuts on her face. Blood dripped from her eye and cheek. Someone had hurt her, and my gut told me it was the same person who had left the scars on her back. “Jax?” Her chest heaved on a breath. “I…please…I…”

  “It’s okay,” I said, trying to tell myself the same thing. I moved closer to her, giving her enough space to process who was standing in front of her. “Tell me what happened.”

  “He…he wanted to teach me another lesson.” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “But I couldn’t…he can’t…I won’t do it anymore, Jax.” She pushed her shoulders back and grimaced at the move. “I won’t let him control me anymore.”

  “Who, Hais? Who won’t you let control you?” My pulse raced, my gut already telling me who it was, but I needed to hear it come out of her mouth.

  “My dad.” She hiccuped a sob and folded in on herself. “I…I can’t go back there. Don’t make me go back there.”

  “I’ll fuckin’ kill him,” Al ground out, and I agreed with the sentiment. He wouldn’t get away with this, not again. But there were more important things to figure out first, like how the fuck I was gonna get her off the side of this road and by my side. I wasn’t letting her go this time. I’d set her free once, yet she’d managed to fly back onto my radar.

  “Not over my dead body, sugar.” I stepped forward, trying to ignore the jerk of her body as I got closer. “I shouldn’t have let you go in the first place.” I lifted my hand and placed my palm on the side of her face that was unmarked. “Come home with me, Hais.”

  Tears slid down her cheeks, mixing with the blood on her face, and all I wanted was to wipe them away, to destroy the pain she was in.

  “I…but you didn’t want me. You made me leave—”

  “Because I thought it was for the best.” I pressed closer, my body centimeters from hers, but I was afraid to touch her, afraid to cause her any more agony. “Come home with me.”

  “With you?” she asked, tilting her head back.

  “Yeah, sugar.” I bent down and placed the gentlest kiss to her lips. “Be with me
. Just me.”

  Her lashes fluttered closed and she inhaled a stuttering breath. My nerves were on edge as she stayed silent for what felt like hours when in reality was only seconds. She opened her eyes back up, stared right down into my soul, then eradicated the distance between us. “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, okay.” She looked up at me, her lips trying to lift into a smile. “No basement though?”

  I shook my head. “Never the basement.” I breathed deep and pressed my forehead to hers. “Only ever in my bed.”

  About the Author

  Abigail Davies grew up with a passion for words, storytelling, maths, and anything pink. Dreaming up characters—quite literally—and talking to them out loud is a daily occurrence for her. She finds it fascinating how a whole world can be built with words alone, and how everyone reads and interprets a story differently.

  Connect with Abigail

  Reader group—Abi’s Aces

  Newsletter

  www.abigaildaviesauthor.com

  More Books by Abigail

  The Easton Family

  Fallen Duet (Forbidden Angst)

  Book 1: Free Fall

  Book 2: Down Fall

  Fated Duet (Student/Teacher Angst)

  Book 1: Defy Fate

  Book 2: Obey Fate

  Bonded Duet (Age gap/Forbidden Angst)

  Book 1: Torn Bond

  Book 2: Tied Bond

  Burned Duet (Age Gap/Forbidden Angst

  Book 1: Fast Burn

  Book 2: Deep Burn

  Lolita

  Yolanda Olson

  Blurb

  No one ever believed that I could make something of myself.

  I got kicked out of my home right before my thirteenth birthday, but I made the best of things. I found a way to keep my head above water and I’ve become damn good at what I do.

  Not to say that my way is the best, but I will say that it’s the only way.

  A fair few have treated me kindly and with respect, and in return, I’ve treated them the same.

  Pretty little girls can get what they want and I haven’t failed to get what I want so far. It’s strange in a way because I never knew how far I would go to take what I want, but I want him—no; I need him.

  The way a junkie craves their next fix.

  The way a hunter stalks their next prey.

  It’s the thrill of the chase, I suppose, and the high of getting what you want.

  Someone should have warned him that pretty little girls like me aren’t all just barbie dolls and bubblegum.

  Some of us harbor darker thoughts than the meanest of men.

  I’ll use what I know best to get him, though.

  In the end, he’ll be mine.

  Just like he was always meant to be.

  Chapter One

  I blow another bubble and lick the sticky gum off my lips. I’ve been standing in front of the “help wanted” board stationed in the center of the community college campus looking for a job. I don’t go to this school, nor am I old enough to attend, but I’ve been on my own long enough to consider myself well-versed in the adult way of life.

  My eyes narrow as I scan the flyers and just when I’m about to give up hope, I see it. I take a step closer and read the somewhat professionally designed sign, a smile curving the edge of my lips.

  Babysitter wanted. Four weekdays and one Saturday per month. Experience preferred, but will consider all. Please call the number below Monday through Friday between nine a.m. and five p.m.

  I pull the first tag off the flyer, fold it up, and slip it into my pocket. I glance around to make sure no one is watching me as I pull the flyer down, crumple it into a ball, then toss it into the trashcan nearby.

  No competition is the best kind and it seems that I’ll be the first and only person to reach out. I don’t mind dealing with some brats for five days a week as long as the pay is good.

  And considering that I’m strapped for cash, I won’t put up too much of a fuss over what they’re willing to pay.

  I shrug my jacket off when I get back to the shelter.

  I’ve been homeless for about four years now and this place has always been good to me. I don’t have much of anything, so no one ever tries to steal from me when I’m gone or asleep. And if they do, well, I just sit them down and have a chat about it. Sometimes, people need more than what they’re willing to say and I don’t mind helping where I can.

  I walk over to my cot and drop my jacket onto it before I head toward the office. Miss Jean is one of my favorite people to talk to because even though she’s always busy, she has time for each and every one of us.

  A gentle rap on the half-open door gets her attention. She looks up at me with her warm, chocolate-brown eyes, and smiles. I grin in return and step in when she waves at me.

  “Well, good morning Meryska! What can I do for you?” she asks me brightly.

  The thing about Miss Jean is that she’s always genuine with her emotions. She never forces a fake smile or warm sentiment for the sake of our feelings, so I know she’s having a good day.

  “I think I found a job,” I tell her excitedly as I sit down and cross my legs underneath myself. I roll the sleeves up on my t-shirt and Miss Jean’s eyes fall on my tattoos.

  I got most of them done when I ended up on the street; traded some of the best tattoo artists blow jobs and some finger fucking action for them. They let me stay in their shops at night sometimes if I did a good job sucking their cocks, and I thought it was nice to have a place to stay. I got really good at it, I even learned how to grind down on their fingers when they decided that was how they wanted to be paid instead because having a roof over my head was more important to me than having my virginity.

  Of course, I never said who they were. Being thirteen years old with a dick in my mouth for the first time or a fist in my pussy wasn’t exactly something you tell people about. They’d end up in jail for kiddie diddling and I’d end up with nowhere to sleep for the night.

  “Tell me about it,” Miss Jean says, resting her hands on the table and leaning forward.

  “Well, I’d love to, but I need to use your phone first,” I admit sheepishly. She arches an eyebrow with a curious shine in her eyes so I reach into my pocket and pull out the number. “It’s a babysitting job. I know it won’t pay me enough to get my own place, but I can start saving whatever they give me.”

  “Oh, honey. You know that’s not why I was asking,” she replies softly.

  “I know. I just think it’s time for me to move on and try to make something of myself and I’m hoping this job will help me,” I say with a shrug.

  Miss Jean reaches across her desk and gives my hand a squeeze before she turns her phone toward me, then excuses herself from the room. She gives me a reassuring pat on the shoulder on her way out and I take a deep breath.

  Hopefully, whoever is on the other end of this phone call won’t let me down, I think as I glance down at the tearaway then begin to dial the number.

  Chapter Two

  I’m standing in the bathroom running a brush through my hair. I’ve never been so nervous in my goddamn life before, but my interview is in an hour and I want to make sure that I look somewhat presentable.

  I decided not to hide my tattoos because that would be hiding a part of myself that I’m kinda proud of. Not necessarily what I did, but the fact that I was able to survive at such a young age by doing it.

  After I finish dabbing some gloss on my lips, I pucker them, then give myself a critical once over before I decide that it’s the best I can do considering the circumstances I live in.

  As good as it gets, I think as cheerfully as I can. I head back out into the main room then grab my jacket from my bed. On the way toward the door, I stop by Miss Jean’s office and peek in.

  “You look very nice, Meryska,” she says with an approving nod. “Good luck, honey. Remember, if you need references, you give them my phone number.”

  “T
hanks, Miss Jean,” I reply gratefully.

  She’s taken down the phone number of the family I’ll be interviewing with, and if they call, she won’t say the shelter name. She’s really smart like that sometimes. I fish around in my pocket quickly then pull out the loose change I have, counting it to make sure that I have enough for the bus ride over and back again.

  With a nervous smile, I give her a little wave as I make my way out of the shelter and head toward the bus stop down the street.

  Half an hour and ten stops later, I find myself standing on the front stoop of one of the fancier houses in town. It does absolutely nothing to ease my nerves, but I’ve come this far and I have to at least try.

  Here goes nothing.

  I smooth back my hair, take a deep breath, and raise my hand to knock on the door. I begin to chew the inside of my mouth nervously. It’s a bad habit that I picked up from when the tattoo guys would finger fuck me. It kept me from making any sounds that would get all of us in trouble and it rears it’s head when my heart rate picks up a little.