Contents
Say You’ll Be Mine
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
Please Be Mine
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Megs Pritchard
Say You’ll Be Mine
Please Be Mine
Rescue Inc Novels
Copyright © 2018 Megs Pritchard
www.megspritchardauthor.com
Edited by Jessica McKenna - www.liteditor.com
Cover design by JC Clarke at The Graphics Shed
All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods. It is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot legally be loaned or given to others. For permission requests, write to the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblances to the actual person, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
WARNING
This book contains explicit M/M sexual scenes and strong language. It is intended for mature, adult audiences only. Say You’ll Be Mine discuss previous abuse. Read with caution.
Chapter One
Jacques Mathias sat staring out of the window, ignoring the conversation behind him. He held a lock of his long blond hair, running the strands through his fingers, a repetitive movement that calmed him.
He couldn’t believe how much his life had changed in the last year. He was no longer the boy he had once been. He could never look at the world in the same way. His life was irretrievably different, and he was trying so hard to make sense of that whilst desperately struggling to keep up with everything that was going on around him. For the last two months, things had changed for the better. but he’d spent six months in hell and it was a place he never wanted to visit again. Next time, he wouldn’t make it out of there, of that he was sure.
He was free.
That was the most dramatic change of all. Two months ago, he was finally released from purgatory, set free from Graham and his sycophants, those sick fucks who followed Graham around like he was a god. Free from being a blood slave or some hole they fucked whenever the urge took them.
Those six months spent as a blood slave were the worst of Jacques’ life. Even now, he still couldn’t quite get his head round the fact his own father had sold him. Why? Because he was gay and refused to fall into line with his father’s wishes and mate with a female. If he didn’t mate with a female, he couldn’t produce heirs and no heirs meant he was useless to the family. So, his father got rid of him like he was a piece of trash.
He could still remember the day his life had changed so clearly. He’d walked into his father’s sitting room and found Graham sitting next to him. He’d only met Graham a handful of times but he’d never seen him at his home, so seeing him sat there had initially surprised him. Why was he there? What did he want?
When Graham spotted him, he’d stood, approaching him before walking around him, looking him over, touching him, causing Jacques to move away. Jacques had glanced at his father wondering why was he allowing this? Why wasn’t he putting a stop to it? Then, out of the blue, Graham declared that he would do. Do for what?
Jacques had stood, his brow furrowed with confusion, not understanding what was happening, and when he went to speak, to ask what was going on, Graham backhanded him, knocking him down to the ground.
He lay stunned on the floor, his eyes widening in shock. No one had ever raised a hand to him before, but that blow was nothing compared to the horror show that his life would become.
The moment he’d been thrown into a room at Graham’s mansion, along with the other vampires, realization dawned, and he knew exactly what he was there for and what he was about to become.
No amount of fighting or pleading stopped the vampires from taking whatever they could from him. He was the shiny new toy and everyone wanted to play with him. He was brutalized repeatedly in those first few days before Graham finally put a stop to it. Not because he felt bad about what was happening to Jacques, oh no... but because he didn’t want his blood slaves to die too soon. He wanted to enjoy everything they had to offer. Multiple times. So, he put him on a rota. The fucking rota… but at least that gave him a day or two to recover before the nightmare started all over again. When Troy arrived, Jacques believed he was going to be another in a long line of vampires to use him but he’d been wrong. So wrong.
Troy had turned out to be his savior, pulling him from a life of torment and abuse and changing it for the better.
Staring out, Jacques compared the view here to the one in his basement cell. The window there had been no more than a little slit, just barely big enough to let in a hint of light and nothing more. He’d slept on the floor with a tattered blanket to cover him and wore rags for clothes. As for food, well, that was scarce, and he’d only been given enough food to keep him alive but not enough that he had strength to run.
How things were different now. Now he had a bed, with covers and pillows. A private bathroom and belongings to call his own. Shit, he could even wear clothes.
His mind wandered back to his bedroom at his family home. It was filled full of beautiful furnishings and expensive paintings with high thread count sheets on his bed. All meaningless things, but they’d been important to him then. Now, however, he realized that they were only items, easily replaced. Jacques now understood the true value of life and material things didn’t matter.
Items could be bought and sold but freedom was priceless.
He glanced down at the scar on his forearm, the one Graham had given him when he’d become his blood slave. A number. Three one two. Did that mean Graham had had over three hundred blood slaves before him? Was he part of a larger scheme?
Hopefully, Sheriff Bailey would find out. Boy, was that man on a mission to find out all he could about what was happening amongst the wealthier vampire families. Jacques knew Sacha’s father was also helping. He’d been furious when he’d been told what was happening and had vowed to get the council to act.
What none of them knew was that the council already knew, they just didn’t care, but Jacques was too scared to say anything. He didn’t want to get dragged back into that world again.
He arched his back, thankful that his injuries had fully healed. The cuts and bruises had healed within days of his freedom due to good food and blood. The physical injuries were the easy part though.
Sleep was the problem. He struggled to fall asleep and when
he did, the nightmares came.
He’d lost count of the number of times he’d woken up screaming, only to find either Sacha or Jared by his bed, murmuring softly to him in an attempt to comfort him. He’d cried so many times, and they patiently held him, never once asking him to tell them what his dreams were about. Jacques guessed they already knew.
Jacques was honest enough with himself that he realized he couldn’t simply walk away from those six months and not expect to be left with some psychological damage. The physical damage had healed, but the emotional one was all over the place. Jacques knew he had a tough battle to face, one he knew would be with him for months, maybe years to come.
His mental health had suffered a huge blow, and at times Jacques felt overwhelmed by it all. The first time he’d tried to go outside for a walk with Sacha had left him feeling like he’d been hit by a truck. His heart had raced in his chest, sweat breaking out over his skin as he’d struggled to breathe. Somehow, Sacha managed to get him back inside before he’d collapsed to the floor, huddled in a ball. Sacha had stayed with him, holding him until he’d come out of it. A panic attack, the doctor said, but to Jacques it had felt like he was dying.
A long road of recovery stood in front of him, but it was one Jacques was determined to face. He wasn’t going to let those sick fucks ruin him. He wanted to live. After all, he had a mate to live for, one that was waiting so patiently for him, giving him the space that he’d so desperately needed, but even now he had no idea what to do about it… about him.
After spending two months staying away from him, Miguel Gomez was coming to visit. His patience had finally run out and Jacques was terrified. He didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t ready, and he didn’t know if he ever would be. He wanted to be, he really wanted to be. He’d watched Jared and his mate, Sacha, saw the connection they had and he longed for the same bond, but he wasn’t sure if he had the strength to follow through.
Every time he thought about what his mate would want from him, need from him, it brought back memories of his time as a blood slave, flooding his mind with terrifying images and leaving him a shivering, shaky mess on the floor, huddled in a fetal position.
How was he going to be a mate when he struggled to step outside the house?
Miguel, his gorgeous mate. Despite the dire circumstances that they had found him in, Jacques remembered him and how he looked. How he smelled. He wanted to reach out and touch him, but he was too far away to do that. He wondered if he would ever be able to. Miguel deserved so much better than him.
Jacques closed his eyes, berating himself. Was that him talking or the voices of those who’d used him saying he was nothing?
Sighing, Jacques closed his eyes and thought of Miguel once more. He had short, dyed blond hair, which was an amazing contrast to his darker skin. His dark eyes almost glowed when they’d looked at him. The dark pants he’d worn had molded to his strong thighs and his black t-shirt had stretched across his broad shoulders and chest.
Jacques was taller, he was sure, but not as broad. His skin was white, almost alabaster. The kind of white that went lobster red in the sun when it burned before going back to white again. Jacques wasn’t sure why he even bothered to try to get a tan. He was either white or red, there was no in between.
Not like his mate and his amazing skin. Skin Jacques craved to touch, yeah right… like that was going to happen any time soon, but despite his fears, Miguel made his body tighten, his dick hard, and his pulse race. The first time Jacques had gotten an erection he stared it in shock. His body hadn’t reacted sexually in months and when he’d come by his own hand, the orgasm had been amazing. But afterward he’d felt dirty, disgusted with himself because he’d come. Sex had become something abhorrent to him; it was all screwed up inside his head.
He heard voices outside his door and he glanced at it. Sacha and Jared. He would be eternally grateful for everything they had done for him. They never asked him any questions or put pressure on him with regard to what he’d suffered. The only information anyone wanted from him was who else was involved.
They provided him with a roof over his head and a room to call his own which they never entered without permission. They’d made sure he had enough food and blood, both of which he needed after his six months of hell.
Jacques heard them at night, low murmurs and cries of passion. They were mates, so they obviously had sex, but it was the looks they shared, the small gentle touches, and the connection that strummed between them. Sometimes Jacques wondered if he could reach out and touch it, their connection almost visible in the air around them.
He wanted the same thing with his mate. He could feel the pull, it was faint, but it was still there. Would the connection change, intensify, once they finally mated? He dreamed of someone looking at him the same way Sacha and Jared looked at each other. He even knew when they talked telepathically. So obvious with the looks they gave.
They even had a smile that was just for each other.
The voices grew louder as they approached his room and Jacques knew Miguel had arrived. He’d known the second he’d stopped his truck outside the house. He’d felt him getting closer with each mile that passed.
He’d sat, watching him as he got out of his truck, his blond hair catching the sun. Jacques bit his lip watching Miguel’s long legs stride along the path. He stopped partway down the path, sensing someone was watching and looked up at him, their eyes meeting for a split second before Jacques gasped and hastily glanced away, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.
Two months had passed, but Jacques still didn’t think he was ready to see his mate. It was too late now, he couldn’t put it off any longer. Miguel was here and Jacques didn’t want to be held a prisoner by his past.
A knock sounded on his door before Sacha appeared, putting his head round the door. Stepping into the room, he gave Jacques a small smile.
“Miguel is here.” Jacques nodded and slowly stood. Sacha tilted his head, frowning at him. “If you’re not ready-”
“It’s fine,” Jacques whispered. In a louder voice, he added, “I need to see him. I just don’t know if I’m ready.”
“We can put it off. I’m sure Miguel would have no problem waiting a little longer.”
“No.” He shook his head. “He’s here now, and he knows what... he knows what I went through.” He cleared his throat and straightened his spine, pulling his shoulders back. “I’m as ready as I’m going to be and the longer I leave it, the worse it’ll become.”
Sacha walked closer and gently touched his arm. “He can wait. Don’t rush into anything you’re not ready for.”
Jacques shook his head slowly, breathing deeply at the same time. “Thank you, Sacha, but I think I need to do this.”
Sacha stared at him for a few more seconds and then nodded. “Both me and Jared will be there. Any time you need to leave, just go. We’ll speak to Miguel.”
“Okay, and Sacha?” When Sacha looked at him, Jacques said, “Thank you for everything.”
Sacha smiled and reached for his hand, gently pulling him towards the door. “We’re friends and that’s what friends do.” Stopping before leaving his bedroom, Sacha again said, “Just remember, any time you need to leave, just go.”
Nodding, Jacques took a deep breath in and slowly released it. Stepping past Sacha, he went to meet his mate.
Chapter Two
Miguel sat on the sofa, his foot bouncing as he waited for Jacques to appear. Nervous didn’t even come close to how he felt at the thought of seeing him. The last time had been whilst Jacques was in the hospital after he’d been rescued.
Miguel had watched him sleep, his eyes noting every mark and blemish on his pale skin. He’d taken in the hollowed cheeks, along with the rail thin arms and legs. Miguel could count every rib on his chest, could see every vertebra in his spine. Jacques had been too thin. How much longer he’d have survived, Miguel didn’t know, but he was sure it wouldn’t have been much longer.
But it wa
s the nightmares, Miguel remembered. The begging and pleading, the screams and whimpers of pain. How Jacques would wake up suddenly and back away from him in fear. It had got to the point that Miguel stopped visiting him. He didn’t want his mate to look at him in fear. Seeing that look on his face had hurt Miguel deeply even though he knew he wasn’t to blame, that it wasn’t meant for him.
Miguel was determined to find every blood slave and set them free. No one would suffer like his Jacques had. And the people responsible? He would hunt them down and make them regret the day they were born. They would know pain and suffering, just like his mate had.
Jacques was beautiful. His long, wavy blond hair framed his heart-shaped face, but it was his amazing green eyes that had caught Miguel’s attention. When he’d first seen them, they’d been empty of life, devoid of hope, but the last time, at the hospital, they had seemed clearer, brighter.
Miguel wanted to stare into them again. He wanted to see them clouded with passion and filled with love. Love for him.
Love. Was he in love already? He barely knew him, had spoken maybe twice since Jacques had left the hospital. Halted, strained conversations where they had both struggled to fill the heavy silence.
Sighing, Miguel stood and paced the living room. He couldn’t stand still, he had to keep moving. He wiped his clammy palms on his jeans then ran a hand over his face, scrubbing at the stubble that covered his jaw. He swallowed, his throat dry at the thought of finally seeing his mate. Two whole months had passed, and he had thought about this moment every day and now it was here, he struggled to control his nerves.
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