by Peyton Banks
I barely make it to the threshold when he wraps his arms around me, and dragging me back inside, he forces me up against the wall. I can’t breathe, and the strain on my ribs from him pinning me makes every breath feel as though I’m being stabbed. He presses the length of his body up against mine, and I cringe as his warm breath blows in my ear.
“I’ve missed you, Aura. Why don’t I show you how much?”
I let out a strangled sob that’s cut off when he squashes me harder against the wall. I’ve lost. He’s going to destroy me, and this time I know I won’t survive. When I feel David’s hands on my hips, roaming my body, viciously pinching every soft and fleshy part of me he can reach, I haven’t even got the strength to beg him to stop anymore.
As I let my mind drift into oblivion, fading along with the last scraps of hope, a demanding voice shatters through the encroaching darkness like a beacon.
“Step away from the girl and put your hands up! You’re under arrest.”
8
Derrick
When I pull up outside Hena’s house to pick up Aura, the last thing I expect to see is the door hanging wide open and that sick bastard standing in the hallway with his hands all over my girl. My girl?...I shake off the thought. I need to get him off her before he puts her back in the hospital, although by the looks of it, another visit may be in store for her already. I’m thankful to see that both of them are still fully dressed, but small mercies don’t make him any less guilty. After radioing for back up, I hurry up the steps and hurtle into the house.
“Step away from the girl and put your hands up! You’re under arrest.”
He glares at me before gripping Aura by her throat and leaning forward to whisper in her ear. Her beautiful face crumples at whatever he’s saying, and it only serves to make me angrier. Unlike his anger, though, mine is correctly aimed and fucking righteous.
“Step away!” I bark, still aiming the taser at him.
In a move I wasn’t expecting he swings Aura around, releasing her, and she crashes into me, falling to the floor before I can catch her. He takes advantage of my distraction and worry for her safety and takes a swing at me. Luckily, I spot the move and dodge before his sucker-punch can land. I let my own fist fly in response, causing him to stagger backward. Before he can make another move, I aim and fire the taser at him, and though it probably shouldn’t, it gives me a sense of gratification to watch his body twitching as the electricity shocks his nervous system, temporarily paralyzing him.
Sirens are drawing closer, flashing lights paint the scene blue. A moment later, Nicholas is rushing past me with cuffs, ready to place them on the prone and incapacitated man as soon as the bastard stops spasming. I let my partner manage the arrest and the scene, along with the other officers who’ve attended, and focus my attention on helping Aura, who looks as though she’s been through a fucking war. She’s going to need a check up at the hospital at the very least.
“Nick, is it okay for me to leave? I need to take Aura to the hospital. He’s banged her up pretty badly. I want them to check her over, to make sure he’s not re-broken any of her bones.”
My partner nods his agreement.
“I’ll be fine,” Aura murmurs, sounding winded.
After I help her get to her feet, she wraps her arm across her ribs, and I snort in disbelief, “No, we’re going to get you checked over so they can verify that.”
I wrap my arm around her shoulders, and she leans into me for support as we walk slowly out through the damaged front door.
“What am I going to tell Hena?” she frets, her eyebrows pulling together, and I shake my head at the silliness of worrying about a door instead of herself.
“That you’ll replace it?” I suggest with a shrug, earning a faint chuckle from her that wasn't pain-free, judging by the wince.
During the car ride to the hospital, Aura fills me in on what happened with Derrick, and my knuckles are screaming from how tight I squeeze the wheel. If she didn’t needed me more, I’d be sorely tempted to turn around and give him more than a single punch and a taser for what he did.
On arrival at the hospital, it quickly becomes evident the visit is going to take some time. The doctor wants to get x-rays of Aura’s arm and ribs to make sure the bones haven’t been re-fractured during the attack. While I’m waiting for Aura, my phone buzzes with a message from Nicholas informing me that David is being held on remand, and this time without bail. Assuming Aura still wants to press charges, I intend to testify as a witness against him. I saw enough of his abuse, and together with her testimony his fate should be sealed.
After what seems like the longest wait in history, Aura is discharged with the good news that she’s healing well. This time she’s carrying bruises instead of fractures. Her body will heal, but the rest of her will take time to mend. I’m sure she’ll want to move past the mental trauma she’s suffered during the three years she’s been living with him, though, and I plan to help her, if she’ll let me.
We walk out of the front doors of the hospital, and I lead Aura back toward my car. She lifts her arm to shield her eyes from the sun that’s casting a fiery orange over the sky as it sets; it’s light is no less blinding for the late hour and darker hue. The glow from the sun bathes her and brings out the rich honey tone of her skin. Sensing my eyes on her, she lowers her arm and turns to look at me.
Before I can stop myself, I reach across the small distance between us and take her uninjured hand in mine, squeezing it gently. “I’m glad you’re safe. When I saw him holding you like that I was so scared he’d kill you before I could stop him.”
“I was scared too,” she whispers, leaning into me. “I’m still scared because I know I’m going to have to face him again in court.”
“You won’t be alone, Aura. I’ll be right there with you. I’ll do everything I can to make sure he stays behind bars.” I look down at her, staring deep into her pretty brown eyes, and I brush back loose strands of the dark, wavy hair that frames her face. “Aura, I really want to kiss you, but I won’t if you don’t want me to.”
“I want you to. I’ve been hoping you’d ask,” she laughs softly as her cheeks darken at her admission and her lips curve up into a smile.
I don’t give her the chance to feel embarrassed; I lower my head and brush my lips over hers, kissing her gently before I wrap my arms around her and tug her close, and when she opens her mouth to me, I deepen the kiss, showing her everything I want to give her: happiness, hope, and love.
She may be bruised and battered, but she’s not broken. That’s one thing David didn’t succeed in doing, even if she believes otherwise. Aura will heal, and I’ll be beside her all the way.
ABOUT ALLY VANCE
Ally is an International Bestselling Author who writes in the Dark Romance & Horror genres. Ally also co-writes with her close friend Michelle under the pen name Ally Michelle. Ally lives in Kent, in the United Kingdom with her husband, stepson, and two cats.
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Call Of The Ocean
GWEN KNIGHT
Trigger Warning
Warning: This book comes with a trigger warning and deals with a suicide attempt. If you or someone you loves suffers from suicidal thoughts, please call the suicide hotline at 1-800-273-8255.
Blurb
One unthinkable act brings together two people who desperately need each other. But with the excitement of a new relationship comes the grim news that one of them might not have a future to give. Can Bram overcome Mackenzie’s diagnosis and prove she’s worth fighting for?
Prologue
Serenity was the song of the waves crashing against the rocks below and the sinuous motion of the frothing water rolling back from the beaten shore. It was a seductive dance, one that lured Mackenzie to the edge of the rocky
cliff.
Every day, the sea sang its siren song to her, begging her to take the leap. It wouldn’t take much. One small step and her life would come to an end.
How would it feel when the ocean rushed over her? Would she struggle against the current or merely sink into the depths that had fascinated her since childhood? Such darkness lingered beneath the surface, but she longed for it, to be free of the endless pain. Freedom was within her grasp, she needed only take it, to claim what was hers to claim, to end what only she had the right to end.
Mackenzie glanced over her shoulder and stared back at the life she hoped to leave behind. Parties, shopping, family… At least, that was what everyone else saw. The truth was more depressing. Countless medical appointments, experimental drugs, endless tears, and a bone-deep agony that refused to relent.
With that in mind, she turned back to the sea and stretched out a hand, as though welcoming the sunrise. She’d never seen one so beautiful before, as though the heavens themselves had thrown open their arms to call her home.
With the sun’s early morning light warm on her cheeks, she took the final step and plunged into the murky depths below.
1
Return to sender.
Bram dragged his palm down his face and sighed. He should have expected this. Regardless how long they’d been divorced, his ex-wife still refused to communicate with him. All he wanted to do was help her out financially, but she’d long since rejected all his attempts, much to his dismay. What was the point of trying? Nothing he said would change her mind, and it seemed about time to stop fooling himself.
With his head bowed, he turned back to his bungalow. When he’d first spotted it three years ago, he’d purchased it on a whim. It’d cleared out his savings, but he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. He woke every morning to the sound of the waves lapping at the shore and fell asleep every night to the scent of the briny sea.
Paradise.
“Morning, Bram!”
He bit back a groan and waved a hand at his neighbor, careful to keep his head down. Mrs. Pedinsky was the definition of a nosy old woman, and she absolutely adored sniffing around in other people’s business.
“A bit early for the post, isn’t it, dear?”
He turned with a forced smile. “It’s been a few days since I last checked. Enjoy the rest of your morning, Mrs. Pedinsky.”
“Oh, do come chat with me. It’s been ever so long since we caught up.”
Bram dropped his arms to his sides and let out a silent curse. He’d been so close to the door too. Sanctuary lay just beyond the tattered screen, where his morning coffee awaited him still steaming on the counter. With his luck, it would be cold when he returned—hell, the sun would set before Mrs. Pedinsky finished chatting.
“I really am busy. Maybe another time?”
The withered woman folded her arms on top of the fence that separated their houses and grinned. “Got a lady in there?”
Of course, that’s her first question. “No. But I do have to get some work done today. I truly do apologize.”
“Tsk.” She waved her newspaper at him, eyes glittering with delight. “Go, dear. That next novel won’t write itself, now will it?”
Lord willing, it would. How often had he wished for the words to pour themselves on the page? “No, it won’t. Have a wonderful day.”
He opened his screen door and was just inches from slipping away when she let out a dramatic gasp.
Bram hung his head. No, this was not happening. After three years of living next to her, he knew every trick in her book. Engaging her would ruin the rest of his morning.
“Come quick! Bram! Hurry!”
His head snapped up at the sound of the old woman’s panicked voice. Now, that was a new trick. It wasn’t until he heard the shouts of his fellow neighbors that he released the door and tore after them. The commotion came from the shoreline where a small group of people had gathered. At this time of day, the beach was often quiet, but something had certainly caused a stir.
Voices lifted as one but all he could make out were startled gasps and shocked exclamations. It wasn’t until he caught sight of a woman in a soaked nightgown that he picked up his speed. Sand kicked up as he ran, his steps unbalanced.
“My word!” Mrs. Pedinsky gasped, her hands covering her mouth.
“Out of the way!” Bram barrelled through the useless horde and dropped to his knees at the side of the young woman.
Her wan face brought his heart to a screaming stop, but rather than stand around chattering about this newest event, he pressed his ear to her chest. He couldn’t hear anything over the surrounding commotion, nor could he feel her pulse. Panicked, Bram cupped the woman’s jaw and tilted her head back. Nothing clogged her airway. He pinched her nostrils together and brought his mouth down on hers. Two full breaths later, he folded his hands over her still chest and compressed until his arms began to grow weak.
“Did anyone call…an ambulance?” he huffed as he fought the uphill battle.
“Goodness,” Mrs. Pedinsky chided. “I certainly hope so.”
Bram swept back down and blew into her mouth twice more. Back to compressions. “Check.”
Distantly, he heard his neighbor order a young man to phone the police, which thankfully, someone already had. Help was on the way—he simply needed to continue until they arrived.
By the sixth set, his arms began to tremble. Someone from within the crowd had just offered to take over when the woman’s eyes fluttered open and she coughed up a lungful of water. Exhausted, Bram rolled her onto her side, then collapsed back onto his haunches and shook out his arms.
“She’s breathing!” Mrs. Pedinsky shouted a cheer with the rest of them.
Bram rolled his eyes. Had he ignored his neighbor and instead settled behind his desk, this poor woman might have died. He couldn’t believe how everyone had merely stood around and gawked.
“You should all…be ashamed of yourselves,” he panted as he gathered the soaking wet woman up and rested her head in his lap.
Dark lashes fanned her ebony cheeks, until, finally, she stared up at him with a pair of devastatingly beautiful hazel eyes. Bram sat patiently by as he smoothed a hand down her back and whispered words of encouragement. Poor thing. How had she ended up in the sea?
Sirens wailing in the distance kept him from asking that question. “Those are for you. You’ll be all right, now.”
Her bottom lip trembled as tears welled in her eyes. Though her cough had yet to abate, she managed to sputter something that pierced him like a knife to the heart. “What have you done?”
The ambulance doors swung shut and then sped off, the sirens silent now that the emergency had passed. As a whole, the surfers had returned to their waves, and his dear old neighbor hovered nearby, eager to glean every bit of information.
Bram stood bereft on the sidewalk, unsure of how to react. Her words haunted him. What have you done? And here he’d thought he’d saved her life. Had she swum out there with the intent to die? If she had, she was lucky to be alive. The sea was hardly friendly.
“Mr. Larsen?”
Bram turned to find a young police officer standing on the curb of his sidewalk, notepad poised.
“Can you tell us what happened here, please?”
He bit back his frustration. As though they hadn’t already heard the story from Mrs. Pedinsky and the entire gaggle of surfers. Nothing but bleach blonde girls clad in itsy bikinis and ripped dudes in their radical swimming trunks. It was a wonder the poor girl hadn’t died, surrounded by those that thought of nothing beyond the next wave. At least they’d had the decency to drag her to shore from the water. “I’m sure you’ve heard everything you need.”
“Sir, please. It’s procedure.”
“Ah.” He cupped the back of his neck. “There’s not much to tell, I’m afraid. I was walking into my house when I heard my neighbor cry out. By the time I arrived at the scene, the young woman had been pulled ashore and wasn’t breathin
g.”
“And you resuscitated her.”
Bram hooked his thumbs into his worn denim jeans pockets and bobbed his head.
“Did she mention her name, anyone for us to contact? Did she say anything at all?”
Bram lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t know how she could with her lungs full of water.” Okay, so maybe that was a lie, but he didn’t feel the slightest bit guilty. The hospital would keep her overnight—they would ensure she didn’t do anything foolish. Besides, he had no way of knowing what she’d meant. For all he knew, she hadn’t even been talking to him. She’d just come back from the dead, after all. Maybe she’d been hallucinating. And seeing as how no one else had heard her speak, he didn’t feel it necessary to inform the police. Besides, what have you done could mean anything. Who was he to assume she’d tried to commit suicide?
“Thank you.” Officer Parker tapped his pen against his notebook once, then slid it into his pocket. “If you remember anything else, don’t hesitate to call us.”
“Of course.”
He watched from the sidelines as the police gathered near their vehicles. They spoke quietly with one another as they quickly went over their notes before presumably heading back to the station.
“That poor child.”
Old Lady Pedinsky’s voice drew him from his reverie. He straightened and nodded, his thumbs still hooked in his back pockets.
“I can’t imagine what she would be doing out there. I wonder if she was taken by pirates!”