Saviour

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Saviour Page 1

by J. L. Perry




  SAVIOUR

  Copyright © 2019 J. L. Perry

  All rights reserved.

  EBOOK—ISBN-13: 978–0-9943987–3-4

  PAPERBACK—ISBN-13: 978–0-9943987–4-1

  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 without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used factitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Soxsational Cover Art

  Editing by Cross Editing Service & Red Pen Princess

  Formatted by Integrity Formatting

  Dedication

  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

  A Note from the Author

  About the Author

  Contact the Author

  Saviour is set in Australia and uses Australian English. Some of the terminology and spelling will differ from those used in the United States.

  Warning: Elements of this story may contain triggers for some.

  This story is dedicated to the survivors …

  You ARE stronger than you think.

  “Shit! Not now,” I mumble under my breath when I notice the distinctive blue and red lights flashing in my rear-view mirror. I quickly pull over to the side of the road, hoping that the police car sitting right up my arse will pass by, but my heart sinks into the pit of my stomach when it pulls in behind me. My irrational mind immediately thinks they’re here to take me back to him. Please don’t let that be the case. I can’t go back there; I just can’t.

  My body starts trembling when I see the officer exit his vehicle in my side mirror; I don’t think I can handle anymore drama today. Sitting up straight in my seat, my gaze flickers to the rear-view mirror. My left eye is almost completely swollen shut, and the skin around it has turned a dark shade of purple. He really did a number on me this time, but unfortunately this has become a familiar occurrence.

  The events of this morning are still at the forefront in my mind. I feel all the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, as images of his large brown eyes boring into me through the bathroom mirror enter my mind. They aren’t the nice kind of eyes that attracted me to him when we first met. These are the evil ones, the ones I’ve become utterly terrified of. It’s funny how that one look has the ability to bring me to my knees.

  ‘Why are you putting that shit on your face?’ he sneered, as I ran the wand of light pink gloss over my lips. ‘Who are you meeting today?’

  ‘Nobody,’ I whispered. I can’t stand the sound of the weakness in my voice. I despise what has become of me. I’d always considered myself quite strong, nothing like the gutless and weak person I am now—a doormat!

  ‘Don’t lie to me, bitch,’ he screamed, fisting a clump of my hair and roughly tugging my head back towards him. I wasn’t lying, but he never believes me. Or maybe he knows I’m telling the truth and just looks for excuses to hurt me.

  My hand moves up to my throat, and I flinch from the pain the contact inflicts. Stretching my body up a little higher to look at my neck in the mirror, I shudder inwardly at the sickening sight of his large finger marks peeking out from the collar of my button-down top. I loathe having his marks imprinted on my skin. How did I get myself into this mess?

  I jump when the officer knocks on the driver’s side window. Reaching over the passenger seat to the glove box, I quickly fumble inside to search for my sunglasses. I can’t let him see the bruises; he’ll only ask questions I’m not prepared to answer.

  Taking a deep breath, I try to calm myself just as he knocks a second time. I can do this, I tell myself. It’s nothing I haven’t done numerous times in the past. I’ve become a master at masking my true pain.

  My gaze is fixed straight ahead as my trembling hand reaches for the handle to wind down the window. I take another deep breath as I silently berate myself. Pull yourself together, Morgan.

  “Is there a problem, officer?” I ask. There’s a small crack in my voice as I speak, but under the circumstances, that’s understandable.

  “Are you in a hurry?” he inquires in a voice deep and masculine as his hands come to rest on the windowsill. Although my gaze remains fixed on the front windscreen, my peripheral vision takes in his every move.

  “No, I’m not in a hurry,” I lie. I can’t tell him I’m fleeing for my life. I’ve never told anyone about the horrors I’ve had to endure for the past few months. I doubt that people would believe me anyway. Everyone loves Wade. I’m often told how lucky I am to have someone like him in my life. If only they knew. They’re oblivious to the monster lurking just beneath the surface.

  “Can you explain why you were doing eighty in a sixty zone then?” There’s a touch of annoyance in his voice as he speaks.

  “Sixty zone?” I ask, shocked, as my gaze involuntarily snaps in his direction.

  I inhale a sharp breath the moment my eyes fixate on his almond-shaped baby blues. They remind me of the colour of the sky on a clear summer’s day, and sparkle like diamonds in the sunlight. They are the kind of eyes a girl could get lost in. Well, most girls. I’ve become cynical of everyone recently, and find myself wondering if his eyes change when he’s angry or upset just like Wade’s do. I won’t fall into that trap again.

  Tearing my attention away, my gaze drops to my lap.

  “There’s a sixty sign at the top of the hill as you head into town,” the officer says with more attitude.

  “Huh.” I must’ve missed that, but I don’t voice that out loud. He’s probably heard every excuse in the book. I’m usually a very observant driver, but in my defence, I’m having a rotten day. Not only is the vision in my left eye diminished from the backhand I received this morning, but I’ve also been driving for almost eight hours without a break.

  “Can I see your licence, please?”

  “Umm, sure.” The last thing I need is a traffic ticket, but if it gets me back on the road again, then so be it.

  I reach across the centre console and drag my backpack from the passenger seat to my lap. My purse, phone, this car, and the clothes on my back are now my only worldly possessions. I don’t even want to think about everything I left behind, but I know I can never return home, not as long as Wade is there.

  My hand is still trembling as I fumble for my purse. I hope the officer doesn’t notice, but when my eyes move back to him, the crease in between his eyebrows tells me he did.

  “You’re not from around here, are you?” he asks. Without answering, I hand him my licence. “Hmm, I was right. You’re a long way from home. What brings a city girl to a little country town like Paterson?”

  Paterson? So that’s where I am. To be honest, I had no idea. I’m pretty sure I took a wrong turn after getting off the freeway, but with my phone now flat and with no way to charge it, I just kept driving, hoping to eventually end up where I need to be. My original goal was Tasmania, but right now I’d settle for anywhere as long as I ca
n’t be found.

  I clear my throat before answering. “I’m … I’m just passing through.”

  His eyes scan my face like he’s trying to decipher if I’m telling the truth, which I am. I’m going to drive until I can’t drive anymore. The further away from my old life I can get, the better.

  His gaze flickers between my licence in his hand and my face before he speaks again. “Can you remove your sunglasses, please, Miss Abraham?” It’s a question, but comes out more like a demand.

  “Why?” Although I’m puzzled by his request, I’m more concerned about what removing my glasses will reveal.

  “I need to confirm that the woman in this picture is indeed you.” He holds my licence between two fingers as he lifts it in the air. As an officer of the law, I suppose he has every right to ask that. What am I going to tell him if he asks what happened to my eye? Will this day never end? It’s one I’d sooner forget.

  Letting out a sigh, I do as he asks and slide my glasses from my face, resting them on my lap where my gaze remains. I’m too humiliated to meet his penetrating stare.

  For some reason I don’t even flinch when his forefinger comes to rest on my chin, gently tilting my face in his direction. His eyes widen slightly before quickly recovering. I’m sure he’s seen a lot worse during his time on the force.

  I feel my cheeks flush as I briefly hold his stare. His shoulders slump slightly as the expression on his face softens. “What happened to your eye?”

  “I walked into a door,” I reply without missing a beat. It’s an excuse I’ve used a number of times lately. It worked for me then, and—fingers crossed—my explanation is enough for him now. I’m grateful my clothing covers the rest of my bruises, because there’s no easy way to explain them.

  His hand drops away from my face, and there’s a part of me that wishes it didn’t. “Hmm,” is all he says, not pressing it further. Tilting my head to the side, I look up at him through my good eye. He pulls a small note pad from the top pocket of his shirt, before jotting down the details of my licence.

  “I don’t live at that address anymore,” I blurt out. I immediately want to kick myself for saying that.

  “Since when?” he asks.

  “Umm … Since this morning.” My eyes drop back down to my lap. I have no idea why I even gave him that information. I guess I’m scared he’ll send something to my apartment, alerting Wade of my whereabouts. Not that I plan on staying here, but it would lead him in the right direction if he decided to come looking for me. Based on past experience, that’s a huge possibility.

  This time, I had enough sense to put a sizeable distance between us. There’ll be no sweet talking me into coming back this time. I’m done being someone’s punching bag. I deserve better than that. Everybody does.

  “Where exactly did you say you were heading again?”

  “I … umm … didn’t.” I don’t even know the answer to that.

  “Hmm,” he says yet again, sizing me up. He seems to have a very limited vocabulary. A brief smile tugs at my lips when he passes my licence back, and for a split second I think he’s going to let me go, but my relief is short-lived. “I’m going to let you off with a warning for the speeding, but I noticed one of your brake lights isn’t working and”—he steps away from my vehicle and has a quick glance at my front and rear tyres—“the tread on your tyres is worn too. I’m going to have to place a defect on the vehicle until those are fixed.”

  “What does that even mean?” This time I’m the one who is frowning.

  “A defect means the car cannot be driven until it’s roadworthy. So, unless you have four new tyres in the boot of your car, and a globe for your driver’s side brake light, you’re going to be spending the night in this town.”

  “Yeah, right. I carry around spare car parts, just in case,” I reply in a sarcastic tone. Doesn’t he understand I need to keep moving? I can’t stay here.

  I see a smile tug at his lips, and it only manages to heighten my displeasure. Is he amused by my response, or is he just getting a kick out of being an arsehole? I hate that he’s so smug and handsome, but even more so that I noticed. I’ve sworn off men for good. I may even start batting for the other team. Okay, maybe that’s going a bit far. I’ll probably just end up settling down in the middle of nowhere with some cats. I can be one of those lonely old cat ladies. At least my cats will love me. Well, I can only hope.

  A part of me feels bad for her as I slap the red defect sticker on the windscreen of her car, but the logical part of me knows I’m doing it for her own good. After all, this is the reason I joined the force to begin with: To serve and protect. If my suspicions are correct, protection is just what she needs. She shouldn’t be out there alone. She’ll be safe in this town. Although our small-knit community is at times rife with gossip, we are like family. I know the locals will not only help shelter her if needed, but also welcome her with open arms, just like they did for me and my mother all those years ago. This town was a godsend for us, and I hate to think what would’ve become of us if we hadn’t ended up here.

  “Please,” she begs, “I need to keep moving. I can’t stay here.” The tears she’s trying to hold at bay as she exits the vehicle hit me straight in the chest. They only make me want to protect her more. “Can’t I get it fixed today?”

  When she comes to a stop in front of me, I see just how petite she is, which only serves to make my anger grow. How could somebody hurt her the way they have? My six-foot-two frame towers over her.

  “We only have one mechanic in town,” I say. “I doubt he’ll be able to look at your car until sometime tomorrow.”

  Reaching up, she runs her delicate hands through her long, fair hair. I can’t help but notice it shines like golden thread in the afternoon sun. This time I get a good look at the bruise on her wrist. I had seen a hint of it protruding from underneath her long-sleeved shirt when she’d handed me her licence earlier. I can clearly see the outline of large finger marks circling her tiny wrist, and it makes my blood boil. Never has a stranger had such a strong effect on me, but the vulnerability I see on her face and the occasional glimpses of fear in her eyes remind me of my mother and everything she had to endure at the hands of my stepfather all those years ago.

  I study her for a moment, trying to get my emotions in check. Her head darts around, scanning the area. “Can I at least move my car from the main road? Somewhere a little safer?”

  Bingo! That request alone confirms everything for me—she’s scared and running from someone, but who? A boyfriend? An ex? I don’t see a ring on her finger, so I’m presuming she isn’t married.

  “Your car will be fine here. I’ll organise to have it towed to the mechanic’s workshop, but in the meantime, I can take you somewhere where you’ll be safe for the night.”

  “Where? A cell?”

  “No,” I reply with a chuckle.

  “Oh, let me guess—your place?”

  This time I let out a full belly laugh.

  “There is nothing funny about this situation,” she snaps, and I have to agree. The smile instantly drops from my face, but I’ve gotta say, I love her sass. She’s a feisty one.

  “There’s a small bed and breakfast down the road. The lady who runs it will look after you.”

  “I think I’ll pass,” she says, letting out a deflated breath.

  “You can’t stay out here; you’re in the country now. I couldn’t live with myself if you got eaten by a wild animal.” I have to fight back my smile when I see her eyes widen.

  “It’s not wild animals I’m afraid of.” The seriousness of this situation, whatever it may be, hits home.

  “Come, you’ll be safe there, I promise.” She eyes me sheepishly, but I can tell she’s considering it.

  “I might just stay with my car.”

  “So you can skip town the moment my back is turned?”

  “What? No.” Her words come out high pitched, and her body language tells me she was contemplating it. I’ve been in this
job long enough to read all the signs.

  “Well, if you were, I strongly suggest you don’t. I’d hate to have to arrest you.”

  “You’d probably love that,” she retorts, placing her hands on her hips. There’s that sass again. “I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction, just so you know.”

  Her words make me chuckle. “For the record, I wouldn’t take pleasure in it.” There’s a brief silence before I speak again. “Please come with me.” I’m not usually one to beg, but my gut tells me I can’t leave her here.

  “I’ll find my own accommodation.”

  “This isn’t the Big Smoke. There’s no luxury hotels around here, I’m afraid.”

  She squares her shoulders, stretching her tiny frame to its full height, which isn’t much above five foot. Did my reply offend her?

  “I’m not precious, you know—far from it. I don’t need a luxury hotel.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “That’s not what I was implying. I … Never mind.” I decide it’s best just to stop talking. I’ll never win her over this way. I’m sure she’d have her pick of accommodations in the city, but country life is very different. Old Jack, who owns the pub in town, has rooms above his establishment, but that’s no place for her.

  Her large emerald eyes stare me down briefly, and all I can think is how beautiful she is, swollen eye and all, but there’s no way I’d even let myself go there. She needs a friend, and as long as she’s in town, that’s exactly what I’ll be. It’s not only my duty to look out for her, but it’s also a chance for me to pay forward the good deeds that were bestowed upon my mother and me all those years ago.

  “Okay,” she finally whispers, as her shoe flicks around the gravel by her feet. Her words have me smiling like a fool, go figure. I’m pleased she’s let down her guard.

  I feel consumed with relief as we make our way towards my patrol car. At least for the interim, I know she’s going to be okay.

  “Do you want me to grab your luggage out of the car?” I ask.

 

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