Copyright © 2018 by Murphy Wallace
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
The following story contains mature content, sexual situations, and language. It is intended for readers ages 18+.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Tanya Baikie with More Than Words Graphic Design https://www.facebook.com/morethanwordsgd/
First published May 2018
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
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Epilogue
About the Author
Acknowledgements
For Courtney ~ for everything
Present Day
Lana
Everyone knows the old saying, “Don’t judge a book by its cover…” The same can be said for the house I live in.
The gorgeous landscape of his estate cannot hide the terror that lives within the walls.
From the men that line the perimeter of the grounds, to the snipers on the roof, no one can come or go without him knowing. It crushes all hope that I could ever have of an escape. When I’m out here I can get lost in the beauty of the scenery. From the tall oak trees to the rose gardens, they help pull me from the hell in which I live and take me to a better place when I need a break from my home life. If you could even call it that. I don’t remember what home really is. I’ve read books with picture perfect descriptions of what a home should be, but no, I do not live in a home. Love lives in a home. Faith lives in a home. Hope lives in a home. I live in hell. And I’m married to the devil.
I have no recollection of my life until three years ago. Since then, I’ve dreamed of killing myself at least a dozen times. The two times that I actually tried, I failed. The more I try to remember my life before this, the more the emptiness inside me grows. All I have to go on is what he tells me, which isn’t much. It’s the same story every time. I was lost and he saved me. I would be in a gutter, or worse, if it weren’t for him. I’m an ungrateful whore who tried to walk out on his love and generosity. Blah, blah, blah… All lies. I don’t know how I know it, but I do. Most days I would rather be in a gutter, poor and homeless, than to have to be in his presence. I’m not sure what I should have been expecting when I woke up three years ago. I didn’t even find out that he was my husband until after the first punch. I almost think it’s better that way. If I would have found out that he was my husband before he hit me for the first time, I likely would have had a sliver of hope that we were in love. That couldn’t be further from the truth. I’ll never forget the first conversation that I remember having with him.
I woke up with a start. I tried looking around and quickly realized that everything was black, especially my memory. My head was killing me and it felt like my brain was closer to exploding with each throb. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to will the pain to go away. I moved to rub my temples in an attempt to get a little relief, but both of my arms were restrained. I pulled at each restraint to see if there was any give, but all that got me was rope burn across both wrists. Suddenly, the room was illuminated and there he was. He was sitting in an over-sized leather wingback chair. It was black and it had gold rivets in it. That was the only thing I noticed other than the color of the room; blood red. Immediately, I screamed, “Who are you?” and pushed with my feet to try and move myself back toward the headboard of the bed. I didn’t make it very far.
“Still trying to run away from me, I see,” he stated. He started walking toward me. Once he got closer I noticed that his eyes were also black; dark as night and scary as hell. This, accompanied by the shaved head and taut, button-up shirt over his muscular build, was more than intimidating. By the way he towered over me, he had to have been at least 6’ 3”, maybe 6’ 4”. I lay there with a feeling of complete confusion when all of a sudden he raised his arm and backhanded me across my right cheek. It hurt so bad, you would have thought he used a baseball bat. My cheek burned like fire and I screamed to try and make it through the sting of the pain. As I lay there, tears running down my face, the metallic taste of blood on my lips, he stood by my bedside in a casual stance with his hands in his pockets, wearing an evil grin. I pleaded with him, shaking my head back and forth, my mind in total panic. The questions started rolling off my lips as my tears fell faster. “Who are you? Where am I? I have no idea who I am, what my name is. Please, I can’t remember anything. I don’t understand! Please, help me understand!” Before I could blink, his face was right in front of mine and his hand was like a vise around my throat. “You’ve lived your life your way for far too long. It no longer belongs to you. Everything that I’ve done for you and you wanted to throw it all away by leaving me! You won’t get another chance. You will go nowhere, do nothing, and talk to no one, without me knowing about it. Your life is now in my hands.”
“Whooooo are you?“ I managed to choke out.
“I’m Lochlan Finch. I’m your husband and I own you. You will learn what your name is when you prove to me that you deserve one.”
He was my nightmare, one that I fear I would never wake up from. In the three years since that day, I’ve learned three very important facts.
First, my life is shit. I’m married to Lock. A cruel, conniving, beast of a man who takes what he wants by any means possible and has not one ounce of sympathy. I live in an endless cycle of abuse, debasement, and paranoia. I have an addiction that he forced on me that I am now a slave to, much to his pleasure. He’s a monster in every sense of the word.
Second, there is a man out there named Marshall Trent who wants to kill me. He is seeking revenge on Lock for ruining his company. They were partners at the pharmaceutical that they ran and they had a nasty falling out. Marshall has sought retribution ever since Lock left the company and took all of the major business with him. Lock told me once that there is only one person to fear as much as him, and that’s Marshall.
Last, I have a purpose in this life. I am supposed to be here. My past failures at ending my life have taught me a lot and I’d be stupid not to see that. Lock has shattered me more times than I can count but I’m not fully broken, yet. Each time that I’ve had to put the pieces back together, it’s made me a little bit stronger than the last. I will put an end to Lochlan Finch. That is my purpose in this lif
e.
April 2012
Adrienne
“Oh, shit!” I scream as the red sedan cruised through the intersection, nearly t-boning my car. I manage to swerve out of the way at the last moment before the asshole has a chance to hit me. Unfortunately, I swerve to the right, over the curb, and smash into the back of a Mercedes SUV that is sitting there, waiting to merge. This is not what I need right now. I sit there trying to calm my nerves as I see the driver step out of his vehicle. As he starts walking toward me, my heart beats faster. He is the most beautiful man that I’ve ever seen.
“Great, I ran my car into a living, breathing Adonis,” I say to no one.
My hands are still firmly planted at ten-and-two as he approaches my window and knocks twice. I don’t break my stare from his car, however. He bends down to eye level and knocks again. I take my hand off of the steering wheel and press the button to wind my window down. I turn to say something to him but my eyes land on his and all of my breath leaves my lungs. His eyes are the most gorgeous shade of green. Rich in color, like an emerald. His chiseled face is sporting a dark and trimmed beard. His hair is dark brown, like chocolate, and it looks so silky-smooth that all I want to do is run my fingers through it. He lifts an eyebrow, knowingly, and clears his throat, a smirk on his face. Coming back to my senses, I give my head a little shake and utter, “I’m SO sorry! There was a car. It ran through the red light and I swerved so it wouldn’t hit me. I’ll pay for any damages, I promise.”
“Woah, Woah. Calm down. It’s just a car. All I’m concerned about is if you’re okay.” He says.
“Yes, I’m okay.” I explain. “Just a little shaken up. And embarrassed.”
“Well don’t be embarrassed. It happens. Why don’t you get out and come over to my car so we can exchange information.”
“Uh, right. Okay.” I agree.
When we get to his car, he takes me by the shoulders, and sits me in the driver’s seat of his car.
He squats down in front of me. His hands move to my calves and he squeezes reassuringly. “Are you cold?”
“No.” I answer
“You’re shivering. Are you going to be okay?” he asks as he removes his hands from my legs. I immediately miss his touch, which is ludicrous. I don’t even know this man.
“Yes, I think so. I haven’t had anything to eat yet today, so that probably has something to do with it. I tend to get shaky when I don’t eat. I was on my way to class. I go to school at…” I shake my head as my voice trails off. Shut up Adrienne, I tell myself. He doesn’t care about any of that. “I’m sorry, I’m babbling. I do that when I’m nervous.”
“It’s one in the afternoon. Why haven’t you eaten?” The skin between his eyebrows crinkles with concern. As it does, I find myself staring, once again. He must be at least 10 years older than me, but damn if he isn’t handsome. His eyes go wide and the wrinkle of his skin disappears as he realizes that I’m staring again.
I take a deep breath before answering. “I was working on a paper and I lost track of time.”
He stands back up and looks around for a moment. Then he looks down at me and says, “How about this? Let’s call a tow truck for your car. It looks pretty bad and it might even be totaled. Then, I can drive us to that restaurant over there and we can grab a bite to eat. My treat.”
“Oh, well I don’t want to keep you any longer than I already have and if anything, I should be buying you lunch. Thank you though.” I stand up to walk back to my car and call a tow truck, but when I get up, I sway a little and nearly fall. He catches me and helps me sit back down in his driver’s seat.
“I don’t think that’s the best option for you at the moment.” He pulls out his phone and dials a number. “Yeah, it’s me. Can you get a truck over to Proctor and South? It’s a gold Chevy Malibu. Yeah, my car’s here too. No, I don’t need a truck, there’s not much damage to mine.” He looks down at me as he finishes his conversation and winks. I give him a tentative smile and then drop my gaze to my folded hands in my lap. “Thanks Ritchie. See you soon.”
“My guy should be here in about 10 minutes and then we can go.”
I nod without looking up. I can’t look him in the face again. I’ve never been so embarrassed and ashamed in my whole life. He pauses for a moment before dropping back down on his haunches in front of me.
“So, what’s your name?” He asks.
“Adrienne.”
He smiles and says, “And does Ms. Adrienne have a last name?”
“Hamilton. Adrienne Hamilton.”
“Nice to meet you Adrienne Hamilton. I’m Marshall Trent.” He offers me his hand. When I take it he dips his head and places a chaste kiss on the back of my hand.
I blush and my eyes go wide before I can stop myself. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Although I wish we could have met under different circumstances.” I scoff and shake my head.
“Well, this isn’t so bad.” I gaze up at him with a skeptical look on my face. “I’m serious. I didn’t have plans to take a beautiful woman out to lunch today, but now I do.”
I can feel the heat spread over my face, down into my chest and all the way into to the depths of my belly before a chill runs up my spine. I clench my legs together and wrap my arms around myself to try and keep my body from shivering.
Marshall
I look down at the meek little girl who’s sitting in my driver’s seat. I say little because she’s easily 10 or 12 years younger than I am. I’ve always been attracted to younger women, but there is a very good possibility this one is jail bait. I’m going to need to find out soon though, because the way the blush moved from her face down to her chest when I called her beautiful makes my cock so hard it hurts. What I wouldn’t give to bend her over the hood of my car.
“How old are you, Adrienne?” I ask.
“I’m 23.” She pauses like she wants to say something else, “How about you?”
Thank fuck! I try to hide the smirk from my face as I answer, “I’m 35.”
I’m about to ask her where she goes to school when Ritchie pulls up on the shoulder with the truck. He kills the engine and hops down out of the cab; toothpick hanging out of his mouth, as usual. Ritchie is a middle-aged retired vet who owns JT Towing, Hauling, and Repair. My partner and I were introduced to him a few years back when we had an unfortunate incident at the lab involving a disgruntled ex-employee that caused major damage to a company car. When we called the police, they recommended Ritchie. We’ve called on him for both business and personal reasons ever since.
“What’s happening, Trent?” he says to me once he reaches us. Then, he nods before locking eyes on Adrienne. “Oh, hello,” he says cheerfully, before continuing, “Who do we have here?”
The question makes me furious, even knowing that Ritchie is a happily married man and has been for 20 years. “This is Adrienne. Adrienne, this is Ritchie. He’s going to get your car squared away. He’ll take it back to his shop to assess the damage and then he’ll call me with an update.” I say forcefully, never taking my eyes off of him.
Ritchie looks back and forth between Adrienne and I a few times before saying, “Uhh, thanks, Marshall.” He rolls his eyes before reaching out to Adrienne and asks, “If I could just have your keys, miss?”
“They’re still in the ignition. I’ll go and grab them.” She says as she stands up and walks back to her car. My pants start to get tight as I watch her walk away. The way her ass looks in those jeans makes me want to buy stock in the company and then buy her 100 more pairs so I can watch her wear them again and again. I am lost in my sweet, delicious thoughts when I hear Ritchie walk up behind me.
“You’ve got it bad, man. Real bad. I’d recognize that look anywhere.”
“What look?” I growl at him.
“You’re in love, bro.”
I don’t offer a response to his observation. He’s out of his mind. I just met the girl. Sure I wouldn’t mind one night of fantastic, balls-to-the-wall, debauchery. I mean she’s breat
htakingly beautiful. I wasn’t lying when I told her that, but I’m not really one to fall in love. Not anymore, anyway. And love at first sight, that was not in the cards. I’m kind of getting used to the idea of being alone. I also knew that if I had her, I wouldn’t be able to get enough. I would want more, take more, maybe more than she would be willing to give. The thought of hurting her like that makes me sick and I am actually a little surprised at myself. I’m not a bad guy, but I can already tell that it’s going to be hard to stay away from this one. This girl may very well be the death of me.
As she walks back our way, she stares at the ground as if it would be too painful to look at either one of us. Her reserve is adorable.
Here you go,” she says as she hands her keys over to Ritchie.
“Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take a look and let you know if it’s salvageable. If there are any repairs that need to be done, I should be able to fix everything right in my shop. I’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you so much. Just let me know the cost before you fix anything.” A mist was clouding over her beautiful, willow-green eyes as she tried to hide her tears.
“Thanks Ritchie. Talk to you soon.” I say as I shake his hand. I turn back to her and say, “Now, about that lunch.”
Present Day
Lana
I’m sitting under the shade of a willow tree, reading a book, when I hear footsteps crunching in the grass. I look up from my book and see Norah, our housekeeper, walking toward me.
“Ms. Lana, Mr. Finch would like to see you. He’s in his office.”
I roll my eyes and sigh as a wave of nausea creeps into my stomach. So much for my relaxing afternoon. I nod to Norah and she gives me an apologetic smile before turning to go back inside. I get up and walk toward the house, not knowing whether I’m more angry or scared. A meeting with Lock is never an enjoyable experience. I take my time walking back inside the house and toward his office. Just before I get to the doorway, he walks out into the hall. He stands there, one hand in his pocket, the other hanging at his side. He’s donning his usual crisp, black, dress shirt and custom-made suit. The hair on his shaved head is just long enough to see the silver peppered in between the black, as the light from one of the many gaudy chandeliers above dances through the hallway. His eyes are still as dark as they were the first time I remember seeing them. Looking at them now, shivers still run all over my body. I am looking through a window into his cold, dark soul and it scares the shit out of me.
Stolen Love (The Wildheart Duet Book 1) Page 1