by K. A Knight
When the attack I am expecting or shouts don’t come, I look up and freeze, the weapon dropping to the ground from my shock. There, in the middle of the road, is Jago. My Beast, the man who showed me a life above ground, the man who has my heart even though he doesn’t know it. The man I left behind. Here, in The Forgotten.
We are just staring at each other from meters away. His face is hard and covered in blood, probably not his own. He watches me like he’s seeing a ghost and I do the same. He strides towards me where I stand frozen. My katana hangs at his side, the one he gave me, not the one from Archel, and I don’t know what to say—so as usual my smart mouth opens.
“I spy something beginning with J,” I gasp out, my voice shaking. I want to reach out and touch him and make sure he's real, that the pain isn’t getting to me or that this isn’t a dream. That my Beast is really here, that he really came for me.
“Shut up, Brawler,” he orders, before dropping everything and striding towards me, closing that last bit of distance between us. He picks me up in one swoop and drags me to his chest as his lips cover mine. He shows me his desperation, his relief, and his love, and when I pull away to breathe I drop my forehead to his. His fire eyes are roaring and I can’t look away, if I do he might disappear even as my lips tingle from his touch. I rove my eyes over his face, drinking him in. God, I missed him so much.
“I have been looking fucking everywhere for you,” he growls.
“I thought we were playing a new game, hide and seek,” I quip, making him grunt out a hysterical laugh.
“Fuck, I missed you so much Brawler. Even that smart fucking mouth of yours,” he whispers, his eyes swimming with emotion, the same ones I am betting are reflected in mine. I never thought I would see him again. I hoped, but logically I knew it was unlikely. It seems this world still has some surprises left in store for me. You don’t fuck with what a beast wants, because he will always push back.
“Only cause you missed it sucking your cock,” I tease and he shakes his head, serious all of a sudden. Just then tribesmen step out from behind the trees, all weapons pointed at Jago. He growls and drops me to the ground and pulls me behind him.
“Wait!” I shout as I push away and step in front of him. “He’s a friend. I swear! Lower your weapons,” I order, and surprisingly they do. I turn back to Jago, seeing the confusion on his face.
“What happened to you?” I ask, taking him in from head to toe. Blood and bruises cover him and he looks like he hadn't showered or eaten for weeks.
“What’s going on, Brawler?” he demands in that voice he used when he was training me. The one that commanded my attention and obedience, not that it worked. His eyes flicker to the tribesmen with guns, no doubt taking in their weakness and stance, and forming a plan of attack.
“Welcome to The Forgotten,” I say dramatically, sweeping my hand out to encompass my new home.
Jago follows me to my hut, glaring at anyone who comes close. Once inside, I finish getting ready for the meeting as I pepper him with questions, needing to understand how he is here right now even as my heart bursts from seeing him again.
“Did Evan come with you?” I ask with my back to him, so he can’t see the hope and longing in my eyes.
He’s quiet for a moment before his arms wrap around me from behind, and I melt into him. “No, he started going out on patrol to look for you. I went alone.”
Spinning, I stare at him in shock. “Evan went on patrol?”
“Yep, guess he finally found his balls. I haven't been back in over a month though, so I’m not sure where he is now,” Jago deadpans, has it really been that long? I guess I lost track of time, but who needs it out here? One day blends into the next. Our moment is broken when I hear raised voices from the community, making me swear.
The fucking meeting. As much as I want to melt into Jago’s arms and forget everything and just let him hold me like old times, I have responsibilities now. I hope he understands.
“Brawler, what’s going on?” he demands, proving he always sees too much.
“There’s a meeting being held to discuss the attacks on the Waste and the Summit that’s been called,” I reply tiredly.
“What are you talking about?” he questions in frustration.
“Archel, the guy who helped us at the house, is part of the Seekers and he left and came back with some information, information that means we need to be ready. The tribe is going to meet as we speak,” I explain, unsure how to describe everything that has happened. It feels like a lifetime ago since I saw him and I have too much to cover and too little time.
“I think you better start from the top Brawler, and don’t leave anything out,” he orders.
Sighing, I eye the door but nod, he deserves this after carving a bloody path through the Wastes looking for me. I just hope he doesn’t see me differently when he learns what happened. That would break my heart.
“They told me you were dead,” he growls, but I see the pain in his eyes, blending with the anger in his voice.
“I was, I nearly was. Archel saved me,” I reply softly.
He backs me into the bed, caging me there. “Who do I need to kill?” he grits out through clenched teeth.
“No one, I did it already. But I have a feeling there will be a lot more killing to come. If you stay…” I trail off, suddenly unsure.
“I go wherever you are Brawler, I thought that was obvious.” He rolls his eyes at me.
I grin. “I knew you liked me, it was the boobs right?”
He groans but lowers his head to mine. “Shut up, Brawler.” He drops a gentle kiss on my lips and lifts his head again.
“Now, what happened?”
So I open my mouth and everything spills out. I don’t know what is going to happen, I don’t know where the other part of my hearts are, and I tremble in fear knowing that both of them are out there. But one thing is for sure. With Jago by my side and Archel at my back, no one will hurt me ever again. I’ll make sure of it. The Beast, the Shadow, the Doctor. It sounds like a weird start to a joke, not my love life, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
We had to hurry to the meeting, my rundown of everything taking so much time. I can see the fury in Jago and I feel it in his body as he touches me, never letting go. I skipped some of the gory details of what happened to me, I told him everything else. Every single detail because it’s Jago and he wouldn’t let me do otherwise, but I also never want to lie to him. Our time apart has only shown me how much I need him. How much I miss him. How much I care for him. I know he isn’t the type to forget, but I have too much else to deal with right now so I keep some of the little things out, planning to tell him later on when we are alone.
The meeting goes as you could expect. People are angry, people want answers, they are confused and scared, and it's mine and Trev’s job to calm and reassure them. We explain our plans and when we reach an agreement, I let my shoulders slump. Jago has been by side ever since, his hands on me like if he isn’t touching me I will disappear.
I tell Trev to let everyone rest today, but tomorrow we start training. He nods and we dismiss the meeting. Getting up, I lean on Jago as we make our way from the tent.
“Thank you,” says a smaller familiar man as he steps in my path. “You saved my life.” I nod and smile, stepping around him.
People start to gather around us as we try to leave. “Thank you, Piper.”
“She saved us.”
I ignore it all, I’m grateful for their praise but it's not why I did it. They are my family now, family protects one another.
We leave the tent, slowly walking down the dirt road, when a commotion comes from the edge of the trees.
Groaning, I look up at the sky. “What now,” I mumble.
A scout breaks the tree line, panting, and covered in blood. He bends over, dry heaving as more tribe members gather around.
“What is the meaning of this, are you okay?” Trev shouts, pushing through the crowd.
“An
attack, sir. Attack.” He coughs, gasping for breath and I stiffen.
“Attack? Attack where?” Trev asks as murmurs run through the crowd.
“Paradise, sir. Paradise has fallen.”
As promised in my first note, here is the triggers featured in this book. If you feel I have missed any, please do not hesitate to reach out.
Violence is prevalent throughout this book as is bloodshed. Rape, there is a scene where the main character is raped. It does fade to black but it does contain some graphic details.
I’ll try to keep this short and sweet, like me...well the short part anyway! This book took on a life of its own and I am so thankful to all the wonderful people standing behind me urging me on.
To Meg, my PA thank you for reading the hard bits and reassuring me people won’t hate me...to much. To MalMal, you are a star and I don’t know how you manage to keep my organised. To Jess and Kaila, you took my ramblings and made them flow. To my betas, Jess F, Jess M, Harley, Andrea, Sam, Kristen, April, Kala, who took this crazy journey with me, I love you.
Lastly, my readers. Your support and love keeps me writing and I wouldn’t be here without you.
Thank you for following me down the forgotten, if you enjoyed this book, please leave a review. It would really help!
Katie
K.A Knight is an indie author trying to get all of the stories and characters out of her head. She loves reading and devours every book she can get her hands on, she also has a worrying caffeine addiction.
She leads her double life in a sleepy English town, where she spends her days at the evil day job and comes home to her fur babies.
Read more at K.A Knight’s website or join her Facebook Reader Group.
THEIR CHAMPION SERIES
The Wasteland
The Summit
The Cities (Coming 2019)
The Forgotten
DAWNBREAKER SERIES
Voyage to Ayama
Dreaming of Ayama (Coming 2019)
THE LOST COVEN SERIES
Aurora’s Coven
Aurora’s Betrayal (Coming 2019)
HER MONSTERS SERIES
Rage (Coming May 2019)
CO-AUTHOR PROJECTS
Circus Save Me
Circus Saves Christmas
One Night Only (Featured February 2019 in the Valentine's Between The Sheets Anthology)
The Wild Interview
The Hero Complex (Coming 2019)
I hate my husband. If I could, I would take this lingerie and choke him to death with it. Eying the newest addition of horrible gifts he’s given me, I frown at myself in the mirror. I’ve gotten skinny, well, skinnier, probably due to his constant fucking need to control what I eat. He says I’m too chunky, that no one will love me if I’m fat. Eying myself now, I feel like a stranger. I loved my curves, the dip in my hips, my rounded stomach, my thick thighs, and ass. Just another thing I’ve lost in my life because of him. Don’t get me wrong, I chose this, well at first I did. He was charming, dressed to the nines in suits and expensive shoes. He spoilt me, taking me to all these fancy restaurants and showing me off. I should have known then that behind that charming facade hid a monster. I never questioned the money, or the lifestyle, not even when the ridiculous gifts started turning up.
It was little things at first, like clothing. I’d felt flattered, but then I realised he was trying to control what I wore, and they were always a size too small. When I asked, he told me I would have to lose weight to fit into them. That was a big no for me, I might be poor, but I knew who I was—well, I used to. I tried to get away, I really did. I stopped texting him back and answering his calls. It only seemed to enrage him, and I’d finally got a glimpse of what he’d hid under that glossy surface.
He started turning up at my apartment in the middle of the night in a rage. In my fear, I’d rung the police. My second mistake. He had them in his pockets, well, more like his boss did. They escorted me somewhere ‘safe,’ only to pass me over to him. He locked me in the penthouse apartment he called home for three weeks after that.
I’d lost my job, my friends. They thought I didn’t want them in my life anymore—nothing could have been further from the truth. I was so alone, so scared. He pictured himself as my savior.
A new plan formed, I went along with it all, but my escape was always lingering in my mind. Waiting for him to slip up, to trust me, and he did. When he fell asleep one night after getting blackout drunk, I snuck out with nothing but the clothes on my back. I had slept on the streets before, I could do it again. Get somewhere safe, away from him.
I lasted a week before his men found me. It was the first time he attacked me. I soon learnt my lesson and he broke my spirit. Time and time again, my body was his to do with what he wanted, even though a small part of me had rebelled at his control, hated him, but I knew I had to bide my time. Be smart, play the perfect girlfriend—sorry, wife.
About a month ago, I woke up tied to a chair with a wedding ring on my finger and a bored looking man ordaining our marriage. He touched me softly that night, telling me he loved me. That I was his everything, he was so happy that I had agreed to marry him. When he fell asleep, I’d crept into the bathroom, the one he took the door off of, and cried. I thought about ending my life, there was no escape from him. His men were everywhere and the police were under his control. I was nothing, just a poor girl from a small town who came to the city to try and make a better life. Even my friends had been more like acquaintances, people to ride out the boring with.
I’d even picked up his razor blade, but I couldn't do it. I’d wait years if I had to—but I would be free of him.
I hear him moving in the other room and it brings me back to myself. The lingerie he’s given me is disgusting. It frames my now too skinny body, highlighting my large breasts and plump arse. I look like a fucking sex doll. The red lace frames my pale skin and the bruises marring it.
“Are you ready? You know how I hate waiting?” he calls, his voice already slurring from the whiskey he’s drinking.
I know that means it’s going to be a bad night. Blowing out a breath, I step into the bedroom to see him lounging on the bed in his suit, scrolling through his phone. The one thing he is more obsessed with than me.
“Tim, I can’t—” I flinch when his hard eyes look me over.
“What did we discuss last night?” His hard voice holds a warning and I tilt my head down, pretending to be submissive even as I fight myself to not look into his eyes and spit.
“Sorry, sir, I can’t wear this in front of your men,” I say softly, hoping he will let me change.
He slides from the bed and stalks towards me, stopping when his breath hits my face, making me crinkle my nose. “And why not?” he asks.
Think fast. Placing my hand gently on his chest, I shiver at the disgust crawling along my skin, even as he groans and grips my hips, thinking I want him. “Surely, sir, you don’t want your men to be able to look at what is yours?” I lower my voice, trying to be seductive.
Fluttering the fake eyelashes he makes me wear, I watch him carefully in case he snaps.
He hardens against my hand and I know it was the wrong move. “You dare question me? You question your husband?” he screams the questions in my face, and my heart stutters. Later he will blame the whiskey, he will cry and hold my broken body as he begs for my forgiveness, but for now, he is the monster I know and hate.
“I wouldn- I just—” My words cut off in a scream, as he rips one of the dangling diamond earring he demanded I wear from my ear. Pain shoots through my body, but I’ve had worse. I can feel the blood dripping down my neck and splashing on my heaving breasts. The sight only seems to spur him on.
“You will do what you are told.” He grips my chin and makes me look at him, his eyes are blown with lust, and I have to force myself not to cry. A knock at the door distracts him and I am eternally grateful, every time he fucks me it’s like I lose a piece of myself. My body isn’t my own.
&nbs
p; “What the fuck do you want?” he yells, still gripping my chin hard enough to leave a bruise.
The door cracks open and one of his henchmen sticks his head around the door. He looks me over, appreciation filling his gaze before it quickly snaps back to Tim, as if not to be caught. “Sorry for the interruption sir, but they are here.” He retreats but throws me a smoldering look. I just stare blankly at him as the door shuts.
Grunting, Tim lets go of my chin and seems to forget I’m even there. Striding to the table next to his—our—bed, he downs his whiskey before shrugging into his black jacket and slipping his phone into the pocket.
He turns and looks me over. “You will do.” With that, he grips my arm and drags me from the room, and I know I am nothing more than an ornament tonight, a thing for him to show off. To flaunt his wealth and power.
Sitting on Tim’s knee as he laughs and jokes with his men, I look around in disgust. The penthouse is buzzing with activity. Butlers and servers rushing about, the women looking uneasy as the men taunt them and touch them, but none would dare question it. Not here, not now. These men are powerful, they run the city from the darkness like puppeteers. Police? They own them. Mayor? He is one of them. I can feel the eyes running down my body, undressing me and fucking me in their mind. I have to swallow my bile, even as it seems to please Tim.
“Wife, get me a drink,” he demands, pushing me from his knee and smacking my ass. The group of men we sit with eye me hungrily, and I know if they got the chance they would fuck me.
“Yes, sir,” I grit out and march away. I hear them congratulating him on landing such a well behaved slave. Fucking arseholes.
When I reach the bar a man blocks my way. He’s big, his eyes are sharp and filled with anger, and his body almost vibrates with hate—for who I don’t know and I don’t want to.