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

by Joan Davis

  Bill grabbed Samson’s arm and shook his head when Samson went to follow her. “She just needs to be alone for a few minutes. She had the same reaction to the basement at our house.” When Samson still continued to stare after Risa, Bill sighed and said, “Samson, why don’t you and Conner show me the basement, son. I haven’t had the chance to see it since the remodel was completed. It sounds great!” Bill said quietly. Samson hesitated, frowning in concern but finally led Bill and Conner down the stairs and finished the tour.

  Once inside her bedroom, Risa sat on the edge of the bed and tried to breathe evenly. Flashes of gray brick and metal bars filled her vision, and she fisted her hands into the comforter. It’s not the same. It’s not the same. She kept silently repeating that phrase and taking deep, cleansing breaths until her heart rate slowed. Would these panic attacks ever end? Risa wondered, as she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to block out the dark pictures in her mind.

  The thought of going down into any basement made Risa’s insides shrivel with dread. Knowing it was a finished basement didn’t really matter. In her mind’s eye, all she could see was cold gray brick, cement flooring and the cage. Over and over again she had been told she would never truly be free from her prison. She had been told repeatedly that she would never escape and that they would always find her and bring her back. Risa tried to squash those horrible voices. She wanted to believe she was free of that nightmare, but at times like this, when the fear swamped her reality, Risa questioned her sanity. Was she really free?

  Shaking her head, she forced herself to stop thinking about those destructive images. She looked around her new bedroom. Just like the rest of the house, it was beautiful. The floors were the same dark wood that ran throughout the house. The room had its own bathroom that was considerably smaller than Samson’s master bath, but it was just as luxurious in design. The furniture consisted of a queen-sized bed with a simple cherry wood headboard. An antique dresser, nightstand and writing desk dressed the walls, and in one corner was a plush and comfortable looking chair. It sat next to the desk. A tall reading lamp and desk chair finished the grouping. It was a beautiful room.

  The bedroom also had big, beautiful picture windows that looked out upon a sprawling front yard that Risa had not had a chance to explore yet. There was a separate garage, but she could only see a small part of it from her window. The blackout drapes that decorated the windows were tastefully neutral. Samson had made sure to show Risa and her dad how to open and close the windows and how to work the locks. Conner had also pointed out the sophisticated security mechanisms on the windows, as well.

  Sighing, Risa got up and got busy unpacking and hoped that Samson didn’t think too badly of her for running away earlier.

  Several hours later everything was done. Bill and Risa headed for the kitchen and helped Samson and Conner fix a light dinner. Risa poured herself a cola but was almost too tired to drink it. She begged off eating against her father’s concern and decided just to go to bed. After reassuring her father again that she was alright, Risa turned in for the night. Surprisingly, once she laid her head down on her pillow she fell asleep quickly. Her last thought was of beautiful turquoise eyes.

  CHAPTER 4

  Sleep eluded Samson, so he found himself sitting in his office in rarely used satin pajama bottoms, looking over blue prints. He was trying to catch up on work he had neglected yesterday. The project he was working on was larger than usual. It consisted of several large bungalow-type homes that would become part of a small assisted living facility for retirees. The facility would have its own hospital, rehabilitation center, and even a grocery store and post office. His crew had broken ground about a month ago, and so far there had been no surprises. Samson knew that in the building industry, that run of luck wouldn’t last, but it was nice for now.

  He ran through several papers and documents that needed signatures and put aside the ones he questioned. A muted sound came from the back of the house, and Samson froze, listened and heard it again. He slowly got up and walked quietly down the hall to the living room. No one was there. He heard the sound again and realized it was coming from the kitchen. The overhead lighting was off, but Samson had left on the task lighting. As he reached the kitchen, he relaxed. Risa was sitting on the edge of the kitchen island, swinging her legs back and forth. She was in a kimono-style robe that parted about mid-thigh, allowing a tempting view of those smooth, swinging legs.

  Risa was digging something out of one of his large drinking glasses and spooning it into her mouth. A little sigh of joy escaped her mouth after each bite. Samson’s entire body clenched. The sounds coming from Risa’s generous mouth were too similar to the sounds he had heard her make the previous night. Jesus, you are a horn dog, Samson said to himself.

  Right then, Risa looked up and saw him, and a guilty smile spread across her face. She swallowed and said, “Don’t tell dad. He would kill me for eating junk food instead of something healthy.” She batted her eyes at him, trying to look as pitiful as possible.

  Samson caught on and said, “Do you know what time it is, little girl? Here you are eating . . .,”

  “Mint chocolate chip Coke float,” Risa said helpfully, as she took another bite and then looked at Samson mischievously. “I’ll share, if you keep my secret,” Risa said and held out a bite temptingly.

  “Is that a bribe, Miss Landau?” Samson asked in mock censure, as he walked to her and leaned down to accept a bite of the chilled concoction.

  “Yes, and you took the bait like a fish on a hook,” Risa said with a self-satisfied little laugh and wriggled as she dug in for another bite.

  Looking into Risa’s eyes, Samson could see the young girl she used to be and the tempting woman she was now. She was captivating, and Samson couldn’t seem to resist her lure. He grabbed her wrist gently, steered the spoon back to his mouth again and held Risa’s eyes as he slowly licked the residual ice cream from the spoon. Her eye’s dropped to Samson’s mouth, and the air in the kitchen was suddenly filled with sexual tension. It curled low in Risa’s stomach, and she shifted restlessly. She became aware of the wide expanse of Samson’s naked muscular chest and the ridges of his flat stomach, and lower.

  “Now, who is the fish?” Samson’s low laugh rumbled through Risa’s chest. She looked up to find that he had taken the float right out of her hand and was now offering her a bite.

  Her lips parted slowly, and Samson fed her a bite. He was fixated as he watched her tongue peek out to lick the cream from her bottom lip. Samson scooped another spoonful up and fed Risa again. This time though, his head swooped down, and he used his tongue and mouth to capture the cream. As he pulled back, Risa’s small teeth bit gently into his bottom lip. Samson put the glass and spoon on the counter and leaned into her deepening the kiss. He linked his fingers with Risa’s, hoping he could maintain some control if he didn’t touch her body, Fat chance.

  Risa thought wildly that this was the best Coke float she had ever had. She tasted the sweetness of the soda, the dark chocolate and the cool bite of the mint as Samson’s tongue dueled with hers. The kiss went on and on, and she had no desire to stop. Their intertwined hands seemed to tingle as they floated and moved with the kiss. Risa felt Samson’s body heat and wanted his warmth to cover her liked it had last night. She moaned with need, trying to pull her hands away from his so she could use them to draw him closer.

  Samson growled in passionate response, but he kept their hands linked. He finally broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against Risa’s. Breathing raggedly, he shut his eyes, trying to slow his heartbeat. “Woman, you are going to get me killed,” Samson joked hoarsely.

  “I’m not going to kill you, but I do want to have a word with you,” Bill Landau’s stern voice was like ice water. Risa yipped and jerked back guiltily, in the way only a daughter can do when she is caught doing something she knows her father would not approve of her doing. Samson had a little more control, as he released Risa’s hands and stepped back. He felt a chill
go down his back as Risa’s dad turned on the overhead light and folded his arms over his chest. I am so screwed, he thought.

  “Daddy . . .,” Risa began breathlessly.

  “Risa, I need you to give Sam and me some privacy. There are things we need to go over,” Bill said, still staring at Samson.

  “But Daddy . . .,” Risa started to protest, but it was Samson who interrupted her this time.

  “It’s okay Risa. I have been meaning to talk to your dad anyway. Why don’t you head off to bed we’ll talk tomorrow,” Samson said, but jumped back in stunned surprise as Risa landed a punch to his arm. Though in no way painful, Samson grunted and stared at her with shocked wariness.

  “Excuse me?” Risa asked angrily. “I should ‘head off to bed’? I need to give you and Sam privacy,” She mimicked the men sarcastically. “Let me clue you both in on something. I may be screwed up in the head and have a lot of things I have to work out, but I am still an adult. You don’t get to tell me what to do. Surprisingly, I can actually think for myself,” Risa sneered and jumped off the kitchen island. She began stomping away, but she swung back once more and practically shouted at both men, “I spent five damn years in that pit of hell, so if I want to eat Coke floats for breakfast, lunch, and dinner I will; and if I want to make out with a really hot guy, I’m going to do that, too! I don’t need anyone’s permission. Got that?” Risa finished, and with one last nasty look, she spun around and left the room.

  “You think I’m hot?” Samson called out with shocked amusement and got a feminine growl in response, as Risa continued stomping away. A few seconds later both men winced as they heard the thunderous slam of Risa's bedroom door.

  *****

  Risa threw back the comforter on her bed and climbed in, still feeling the satisfaction from slamming her bedroom door. Yanking the comforter back up to her chin, she stared in frustration at the ceiling. She had not turned off overhead light. Growling, Risa threw the comforter back and swung herself out of bed. She stomped over to the light switch and slapped it down with vengeance, throwing the room into darkness. Risa stomped back to the bed and promptly stubbed her toe on the base. For the next several minutes she hopped around as pain throbbed in her poor toe. She bit her lip to keep from moaning too loudly. Throwing back the comforter, Risa once again climbed into the bed and drew the cover over her.

  I am not a child. I don’t need to be ‘told’ what to do, Risa said to herself angrily and then a nasty thought occurred to her. Here she was in bed, doing exactly what Samson had told her to do. All I need is a baby bottle and my binky, she thought in disgust. Throwing back the comforter once again, Risa got up, and moving with a little more care, walked over and flipped on the overhead light again. Biting her lip, she stood in indecision. She couldn’t go back out in the living room or kitchen, which was now enemy territory. She turned to plop down in the plush chair that sat by the small desk in the far corner of the bedroom. Risa caught herself when she saw several plastic bags in the seat of the chair. Remembering that she had already put all of her things away, she knew those bags had come from her father.

  Similar bags had continued to show up in her bedroom at the other house for the last few months. Risa knew what was inside them without looking. Art supplies, she thought in frustration. She stared at the bags and sighed with resignation. Risa knew her dad meant well, but he didn’t understand the pain and guilt she still felt about the roll she felt she played in her mom’s death. The therapy had been helping, but she still didn’t think she was ready to try being creative again. Looking around, Risa bent and opened the bottom drawer of the desk. Luckily it was empty. She reached back and grabbed one of the bags to put it in the drawer. Unfortunately, she grabbed the bottom of the bag instead of the handles and accidentally dumped the contents on the floor in front of the chair.

  As if in a trance, Risa slowly dropped to the floor and started fingering the sets charcoal sticks and drawing pencils that were piled in front of her. Before she could stop herself, she dumped all the other bags out as well. There was India ink and quills, spiral pads of drawing paper in all sizes, erasers, sharpeners and more. It seemed as if her dad had bought out the entire art store. Maybe dad understands more than I thought, Risa thought to herself.

  Without thinking, she began opening one of the pencil sets. In minutes, she had all of the smaller items unwrapped and in a small shoe box she found in the closet. She sat back in the big cushy chair, clutching the shoe box and one of the drawing pads. Pulling one of the big pillows she had gotten from the bed onto her lap, Risa laid the drawing pad on top of it and flipped it open. Biting her lip, she grabbed a drawing pencil and an eraser and put the shoe box beside her. Taking a deep shuddering breath, and before she could change her mind, Risa began to draw.

  *****

  “She gets that temper from her mother,” Bill Landau said in bemused shock. “When she was little and she didn’t get her way, Risa could shred me with just a look. If that didn’t work, she would start screaming at the top of her lungs. That little girl could go on for hours and hours.” Bill ran his hand through his short, peppered hair. “Her hair was down to her waist and was as wild as a gypsy’s. She’d swing around like she did just now, and that hair would fly around her like it was alive. I used to pray that she would grow out of that temper,” Bill laughed. “But once I got her back, I lived for any sign of it.”

  “Well, I can assure you it’s alive and well. Risa has used it on me a couple of times,” Samson said ruefully. “Bill, I want you to know . . .,” Samson began.

  Bill waved Samson’s words away. “Son, I have real concerns about you and my daughter. I think I am justified, given the circumstances. However, I also see what a tremendous effect you have on her. She seems more alive and even more confident since she met you.” Bill sighed. “She is also an adult. I sometimes forget that, and I get a little too protective, but it’s only because I see how she is struggling to grow beyond what happened to her. Her world stopped when she was 15, and now at 21 it has restarted. Risa is trying to catch up with everything. It’s a lot to handle,” Bill said quietly. “What I am trying to say, Sam, is just don’t hurt her. She has been through enough for ten lifetimes. I want her happy and secure.”

  “Bill, I won’t hurt Risa, but I won’t lie to you either. I really don’t know what’s happening between me and her. We barely know each other, but I don’t want to let her out of my sight. I know I would kill to protect her. To tell you the truth, she scares the hell out of me,” Samson smiled crookedly. “I have never felt this way about another person.” Samson clenched his jaw hoping that what he said was enough for Bill.

  “Not even LuAnne?” Bill questioned with an arched brow.

  Samson frowned. “Let’s just say that whatever LuAnne and I had doesn’t even compare to what I feel for Risa.

  “That’s good enough for me,” Bill nodded but then cleared his throat uncomfortably. “There are things you should know though. Risa’s back . . . it’s . . . scarred. That bastard beat her over and over,” Bill choked out.

  “I’ve seen Risa’s back, Bill,” Samson said gently. “Yesterday, Risa was shaking so badly from being wet and cold that I had to help her out of her wet clothes to get her warm.” Samson didn’t think Bill needed to know the rest of what had happened, so all he added was, “It makes me sick that she was put through that kind of torture, but the scarring itself doesn’t change how I feel about her.”

  Bill sighed and closed his eyes for a moment in relief. “You’re a good man, Sam. Risa has had most of her old friends abandon her since she was rescued. They couldn’t handle seeing her in that condition. I don’t blame them. It was sheer hell for me, but at the same time, I know Risa wonders why none of her friends ever call or come to see her.” Bill looked around the kitchen. Do you have any beer or liquor? I could use something right about now.”

  Samson walked over to one of the built-in cabinets and opened it. “I’ve got whiskey and bourbon. I also have vodka in
the freezer,” Samson said, pulling bottles and glasses out of the cabinet.

  “Whiskey is fine,” Bill said as he accepted the half-filled glass and threw it back in one go. Fire filled his throat and spread throughout his body. It gave him the courage to continue. Once he was able to speak again, he quickly said. “Risa is a virgin,” and raised his hand when Samson started to speak. “No, let me finish. I won’t be able to do this again. If you are going to help us get through this nightmare, you deserve to know some of what happened to her. When the doctors at the hospital said she had no evidence of being sexually abused and that she was still a virgin, I literally passed out. I dropped to the floor, and they told me I was out for a good ten minutes. I made them repeat everything to me, because I thought I was dreaming.” Bill walked over and poured himself another drink with shaky hands, but he didn’t drink it right away.

  “It sounds so ridiculous that after finding out about everything Risa had been put through, hearing that my daughter was still a virgin would be the thing that blindsided me. Hell, I was just so damn glad to have my girl back that I never even thought about it, to be honest. Later, one of the cops told me that Saren had told them that he had made sure Risa remained pure so she could fulfill the prophecy, whatever that was. I was actually grateful to the crazy bastard for sparing Risa that way; that is, until the detectives also told me Saren is medically impotent. It’s probably the only reason he didn’t rape her.” Bill swallowed the second drink and closed his eyes against the burn.

  Samson nodded and said, “You don’t have to go on Bill. When I decided to help you and Risa, I went back and read a lot of the newspaper accounts of what Risa went through, I . . .” Samson stopped when Bill shook his head in disagreement. Samson shifted, realizing Bill wasn’t done yet. He stayed quiet, knowing this was going to get worse. Bill needed to talk, and Sam knew he needed to hear it, but he felt like throwing that damn bottle of whiskey through the large kitchen window.