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Coming Out of the Dark: Second Chance Series - Book 1

Page 8

by Joan Davis


  “Who’s out there?” a man with a grizzled voice demanded.

  “Mr. Mueller, this is Samson Knight. I’m here about your grandson, Duke,” Samson said authoritatively.

  “My grandson ain’t here. I ain’t seen him in a while. Go away and leave me alone. You got no business on my property,” Mr. Mueller said shakily.

  “Mr. Mueller I know you want to protect your grandson, but we have a warrant for his arrest. It’s best if he just surrenders peaceably. Why don’t you help us out and . . .?”

  “We got a runner out the back! Gun, he’s armed! . . . Runner out the back!” Zek’s voice whipped over everyone’s ear-buds.

  Samson raced around the trailer and saw Duke Mueller facing away from him and firing his semi-automatic pistol. Zek and Uriah were pinned down behind an old shed. He knew Chris and Frank must be circling back around the same way Samson had come. Duke kept firing as he tried to reach the densely packed woods behind the trailer. Samson raced towards him and used his massive body to take Duke down to the ground. Duke was surprisingly wily and as Samson hit him, he rolled and got on top of Samson. Samson grabbed the wrist of Duke’s gun-hand and held it away so Duke couldn’t use it on him. He slammed his other fist painfully into Duke’s side.

  “You mother fucker, I aint going back to jail. I’ll die first, and I don’t mind taking you with me,” Duke grunted and snarled. His greasy black hair and large square jaw were what Samson saw right before Duke smashed his forehead into Samson’s.

  Samson felt pain explode in his head. It took everything inside of him to keep his tight grip on Duke’s wrist and stop him from pointing the gun at him. Sam brought up his other arm to lend him more power, and he began to force Duke to loosen his grip on the gun. Samson felt a momentary satisfaction as he saw the gun slip out of Duke’s hand and land on the ground.

  “Sam, watch the knife!” Zek yelled in alarm, but it was too late.

  Searing pain ripped through Samson as Duke brought a large Bowie knife down viciously and stabbed him just below his armpit. He then tore the knife free, ripping more of Samson’s flesh as he did. Samson saw his death in Duke’s mean, gray eyes as he began to swing the knife down again. But Zek and three other men wrestled Duke Mueller to the ground and subdued him.

  Samson couldn’t breathe and pain radiated through his whole body. He stared up into the twilight as screams of anger and authority rang out around him. God, is this it? You’re going to let me die behind a rusted old trailer on some old man’s property in the middle of fucking nowhere, really . . .? Samuel thought in disgust, and then everything went black.

  Samson jerked upright as he awoke from his nightmare. It had been a long time since he’d dreamed about the night he had been stabbed. He sat up on the large leather couch where he had bunked down for the night. He was rubbing his hand over his face when he heard a faint cry coming from his master bedroom. Samson sprang off the couch and raced across the living room. He found Risa curled up in a tight ball against the headboard of the bed. The quilt was on the floor along with both bed pillows. Risa jerked and whimpered again.

  Samson moved across the bed and touched Risa’s shoulder. “Risa, you’re okay baby.” he said soothingly, but Risa flinched away from him violently and moaned as if in pain.

  Risa let out an anguished cry of pain. “Please, no more, please . . .,” she sobbed.

  Samson felt sick at heart. He couldn’t stand the tortured sounds he heard in her voice as she cried out. He instinctively wrapped himself around her, trying somehow to protect her. She fought against his hold at first, but he put his mouth against her ear and kept up a steady litany of soothing words. After a few minutes, Samson felt Risa’s body began to relax. Her heartbeat slowed and her breathing returned to normal.

  “Samson . . .,” Risa moaned and shivered in her sleep.

  Samson rolled over slowly, keeping his hold on Risa. He reached down and grabbed the bedding from the floor. He arranged them until his and Risa’s heads were comfortably supported and they were both covered by the quilt. Risa burrowed against his body, seeking more warmth. She moved restlessly against him until she finally settled down and slept more peacefully.

  Clenching his teeth, Samson forced his aroused body to relax. He usually hated when a woman wanted to cuddle. With Risa, however, he wanted her near him any way he could get her. Her innocent touch electrified his body. Her small form seemed fit perfectly against his much larger frame. He ran his fingers gently through her wild, silky hair and then down her cheek. Samson groaned softly with need. He had never wanted a woman the way he wanted Risa. Despite his prediction of a sleepless night, Samson soon fell asleep, and he did a little cuddling of his own.

  *****

  Risa was dreaming. She was standing before Samson in the shower as he explored her body with his hands. She arched her back as he ran his rough palm over her breast. He pinched and rolled her nipple until it was taut with arousal. “Samson,” she cried softly. He moved his powerful thigh in between hers and pressed it up against her sensitive flesh. She instinctively thrust against his hard flesh rhythmically. Her stomach clenched as heat pooled between her legs. She whimpered with an unknown need.

  Samson’s groan brought Risa out of her dream state. Eyes heavy with arousal, she stared into his eyes and suddenly realized she wasn’t in a dream but caught in a mind-blowing reality. She stared into Samson’s passion-filled gaze and cried out as his calloused fingers pinched the taut peak of her breast and then pulled on it gently.

  “Risa, tell me to stop,” Samson ordered reluctantly, knowing it would kill him if she did. He had come out of a deep sleep with Risa moving sensually against him in her sleep. Without thinking, he had brought his hand up to play with her breast and rolled his body over her until he had seated himself between her legs. His cock, rigid with need, rode against her warm sex. The only thing separating his flesh and hers was their underwear.

  Instead of telling Samson to stop, Risa brought her knees up on either side of his hips. Her own need driving her, Risa used her feet to thrust her hips against him. The pleasure building in her body was so intense it terrified her, and yet she couldn’t stop herself from wanting it to continue. “I need . . . Ahh . . . Samson,” Risa panted as she thrashed underneath him.

  Samson knew Risa was close to climaxing. He reached down and held her hips as he moved in a way that forced his rigid cock up tight against her clitoris. He moved faster and faster until she threw her head back and screamed in release. “That’s it, baby. Come for me.” Samson’s voice was a low growl. He felt Risa’s body shudder and pulse.

  Samson’s deep voice shot through Risa and seemed to vibrate against her clit. She screamed again as another wave of pleasure shook her body. She tried to draw away, afraid of such an intense release, but Samson held her in place until her body was relaxed and replete. Risa’s breathing, hoarse whimpers, slowly became deep and even. The last thing she saw before sleep took her was Samson’s beautiful and passionate gaze.

  Samson groaned. He had never experienced such a volatile reaction to a woman. They were explosive together. After he watched her fall asleep as exhaustion took her he felt a momentary sense of guilt. But being able to experience her pleasure and watching how responsive her body was for him was one of the most amazing things he had ever seen. Samson was so drawn to Risa in a way he couldn’t define. He wanted her physically and mentally. He wanted to make her world bright again. He needed her to feel safe and secure. Most of all, he wanted her to be his and his alone. He groaned in need as he pulled the quilt back over Risa and got out of bed. He headed for his shower. I feel like a teenager, hiding in the bathroom, taking care of business. Samson groaned again, but he grinned, remembering Risa’s satisfaction.

  *****

  Risa awoke slowly. She heard voices and found herself in unfamiliar surroundings. She bolted upright as everything rushed back to her. Risa held her head in her hands as her mind reeled. She knew she was in Samson’s bed. She remembered the atta
ck, but it now took a backseat to the erotic images of Samson covering her with his muscular body and all the intense pleasure that followed. Shivers ran up and down her body. She remembered every touch and every stroke. Risa pictured the taut, muscled lines of his body, his amazing hair and eyes. And a voice that could make me climax for the first time in my life, Risa groaned softly and fell back on the pillow. Guilt, I should feel guilt or at least embarrassment, right? In fact, Risa felt neither, and a shiver of satisfaction went up her spine.

  She rolled on her side and noticed the bedroom door was closed. Once again she heard several voices coming from the other side. Risa shivered again but this time in dread. Facing a room full of unknown people seemed very daunting. You just had an amazing experience with a man you barely know. Dealing with a few strangers should be easy, Risa scolded herself. Sighing, she threw back the toasty quilt and got out of bed. She noticed two piles of her own clothing sitting at the end of the enormous bed. One was her clothing from yesterday, freshly laundered, and minus the ripped shirt. The second set of clothing confirmed the fact that at least one of those voices outside the bedroom was her dad.

  Risa walked into the warm and toasty bathroom, undressed and stepped into the shower. As she quickly washed, she tried not to let thoughts of her last shower enter her mind. Fat chance, I am in big trouble, she thought, scrubbing her face and letting the spray wash over her. Her body still throbbed with need. This physical ache was so new to Risa. Was this what she had read about in romance novels when she was younger? She was going to have to visit the book store and soon. How else was she going to find out? It wasn’t as if she could ask her dad, and she balked at the idea of discussing it with her therapist. No, a good romance novel should do the trick. Once Risa was bathed and dressed, she found the first aid kit Samson used the previous night. She doctored and re-bandaged her wounds. She then forced herself to leave the master suite and face the gauntlet of people.

  Bill Landau was the first one out of his seat as Risa entered the living room area. Risa flew into his arms, her relief that he was safe making her hug him fiercely. Her dad returned the favor and had her sit next to him on the couch. He kept her small hand in his, as if to reassure himself Risa was really there and okay.

  He squeezed her hand and asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine daddy, I promise.” Risa said and leaned her head on his shoulder in affection. Then Risa leaned up, and to his pleasant surprise, kissed his cheek. Risa had not done that since before she had been kidnapped.

  “Risa, we need to ask you a few questions,” District Attorney Boyd Addison said cautiously. He knew how fragile she was and didn’t want to upset her. “I know it’s hard for you to talk about these things, but we need to know what happened to you yesterday.”

  Looking over at him, Risa sighed. He always reminded her of one of those models in the toothpaste ads. Perfect teeth, perfect hair, perfect everything. He didn’t seem quite real, and his eyes always looked like he was plotting something devious. It unnerved her. She sighed and said, “I was taking a walk on one of the wooded paths on our property. A man grabbed me from behind, but I fought him and got away.” Risa shrugged, looking down, and tried to breathe deeply. There were too many people crowding around her. She felt overwhelmed. “You told me that I didn’t have to worry because all of those people who hurt me were either dead or in jail. That’s not true, is it?” Risa asked the D.A., her voice hoarse with tension.

  Before he could answer, Sheriff Lee Grant overrode him. “Look Ms. Landau, regardless of what D.A. Addison did or did not tell you, we’re going to need more than what you just told us,” he said sternly. He was seated in the other leather chair across from the D.A., and two large deputies stood behind him. “I have a lot my men out in those woods searching for this man you said attacked you. These are men I took off of other assignments. After that storm, chances of finding him or anything we can use will be next to impossible. I have already spoken to Mr. Knight and Mr. Matthews and got their stories.” he said, indicating Samson and his friend Conner, who were standing by the large fireplace. “They say they didn’t see this man at all. So you are our only eyewitness,” The sheriff continued, moving to sit on the sturdy coffee table in front of Risa. “I need you to tell me exactly what happened from the time you started your walk and were attacked, until you got away and ran into Mr. Knight.” He leaned forward, crowding Risa to emphasize his demand.

  Bill Landau watched Risa recoil at the sheriff’s abrupt move and knew she was fighting anxiety. The sheriff was way too close to her, and Risa drew her knees up to her chest in a defensive posture. “Sheriff, you need to back away,” Bill Landau said, standing up and moving protectively in front of Risa, forcing the sheriff to rear back.

  “Look Mr. Landau, I need details that only your daughter can provide.” he said grimly and also stood. The two men faced off angrily.

  Risa glanced over at Samson and saw anger building on his face, as he moved towards both men. Risa knew she had to stop this before it got out of hand. She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. She leaned forward a bit to grasp her dad’s hand, to get his attention. “Dad, it’s okay. I need to do this,” she said quietly. Bill Landau squeezed her hand but didn’t move until the sheriff returned to his previous seat. “Thank you,” Risa said to the sheriff, grateful for his decision to withdraw from his aggressive stance. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Samson relax back against the fire place.

  Risa took a ragged breath and started speaking. Haltingly, she tried to give them every detail she could remember about what happened during the attack. Occasionally someone would ask a question, and Risa tried her best to answer. She ended by telling them about seeing Conner take off in the rain towards her dad’s house. “That’s all I can remember,” she said, sitting back

  “You didn’t see this attacker’s face at all?” the sheriff asked, frowning.

  Risa shook her head. “He was covered in black. Even his head was covered. Like I said, he is about Dad’s height but really big and stocky.” She noticed one of the deputies had a very similar build to her attacker, but their grim expressions made her too intimidated to share her thoughts.

  “Risa, could you draw him? Would that make a difference?” Risa’s dad asked helpfully. “Maybe you would remember more details,” he said

  Feeling helpless, Risa shook her head and said, “Dad, please don’t. He was just covered in black material. There is nothing else I can tell you.”

  Sheriff Grant looked over at District Attorney Addison and then back at Risa. “Ms. Landau, we all know how much stress you have been under and continue to experience. I have been told that you suffer from a form of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Is it possible that you panicked in the woods yesterday because of the storm and just imagined this attacker?”

  With that statement the room irrupted into chaos. Everyone started yelling.

  “If Risa says she was attacked, then she was attacked!” Bill Landau shouted hotly, as he lunged out of his seat. “How dare you imply my daughter is lying?” he questioned furiously. “You people have done nothing for my daughter except cause her more pain and misery. You fucking people are worthless,” he continued, letting six years of bitterness spill over into his voice.

  “I had to ask the question . . .,” Sheriff Grant tried to placate.

  “This is bullshit,” Conner said, looking at Samson, but Samson was watching Risa.

  Risa’s breathing was ragged. They think I’m making up this entire thing. They think I’m crazy. She couldn’t sit there any longer. She had to get away. What if they are right? What if I am crazy? She bit her lip hard to stop herself from screaming. Risa threw herself off the couch and raced into Samson’s master bedroom and beyond into the bathroom. Her breathing labored, she sat on the low, cushioned bench near the vanity. She bent over and held her head in her hands. She gave way to the tears that had been building up inside her. Her head pounded as her heart rate soared.
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br />   Strong arms suddenly scooped her close. Knowing who it was, Risa wound her arms around Samson’s shoulders and hid her face in his neck. Sobs wracked her tiny body as sorrow filled her heart. Samson sat on the bench and slowly rocked her back and forth. “Risa, please don’t cry. I’ve got you.” he said softly.

  “It was real. It did happen like I said,” Risa said in desperation, her voice cracking. Samson could hear self-doubt and fear in her voice. “Why would I make it up?” she asked, wondering fearfully if she were going back to her dream world. More tears spilled with that thought.

  Samson gritted his teeth in anger, thinking about what Risa had gone through and what people were putting her through even today. “Risa, I don’t have any doubt about what you said,” he stated with absolute clarity. He slowly stood and dropped her feet to the floor. He then turned her to face the vanity mirror. “I want to show you something,” he said, as he pulled the neck her oversize sweat-shirt gently to one side. Samson exposed her left shoulder and Risa was able to see a bruise that was shaped like a hand print that reached her collar bone.

  Risa gasped and fingered it carefully. She hadn’t noticed it among all her other injuries before now. “That’s where he grabbed me,” she said in wonder. I’m not crazy, she said to herself. Relief spread through her body.

  “See? The bruise could only look like that if someone grabbed you from behind, like you said.” Samson demonstrated by placing his the fingers of his left hand gently in the exact pattern of the bruise. “I would have told them about the bruise if I had thought there was any question about the attack. I’m sorry, baby,” Samson said, more than angry with the Sheriff and D.A.

  Risa looked at their reflections in the mirror and dropped her hand. “I guess they are going to want pictures for proof,” she said without enthusiasm. “They took a lot of them in the hospital. It’s one of the few things I remember about being rescued. Flashes from the cameras seemed to go on forever.”

 

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