How could our relationship survive with several miles between us? Days, weeks, months going by without seeing each other?
Was that something I wanted?
Arabella
Watching Royce pace back and forth in the green room was a sight to see.
I knew there were more thoughts running through his mind than which team he would be signed to. What he didn’t know was that I had a secret in store for him.
When Royce started explaining how the recruitment process worked, I took a chance and looked into universities near teams who showed interest in him. I wouldn’t be able to apply to every one of them, so I took my research a step further and questioned Royce’s coach. We had grown close when I started spending so much time at games, practices, and get-togethers with the team. He was a fantastic man and answered my abundance of questions without hesitancy or annoyance.
In March, I applied to three schools within the area of the teams I thought showed the most promise for Royce. By the time the recruitment ceremony came around, I had gotten emails back from each of the schools, all I needed to do was accept and show Royce after his own announcement.
It was agonizing waiting to hear what would happen. The ceremony would still last for several hours, but hopefully Royce would get announced early on. This wasn’t how things typically worked. For one, he was quite a bit older than most males applying, especially ones from foreign countries. The spring season was spent making a video documentary of his skills. After submitting it, we decided to set up a ceremony for some of his teammates and await phone calls together while having a going away party of sorts.
We knew the scouts had given their recommendations to teams and what day team managers would be asking players to come in.
Sitting quietly at the table, I considered telling Royce about my applications to settle him down, but I held off. Just when I was about to get up and find something to occupy his time, his phone rang. He looked to me with wide eyes while accepting the call.
A loud voice came over the speaker, asking for Mr. Channing.
“This is he,” Royce responded.
“Congratulations Mr. Channing. The Houston Dynamos would like to offer you the position of striker for the upcoming season. What do you say?”
Royce stayed silent for a moment, gazing at me like I should make the decision for him, or he was afraid to accept. When I smiled in approval, knowing it was his dream team, he graciously accepted. They talked for several more moments, during which time I pulled up my email and accepted admittance into the university closest to the team.
After hanging up with the team manager, Royce headed over to me and wrapped his arms around my body. He was quiet for such a long time, I started to worry about him. Pulling back, I took his face into my hands and stared into his eyes. Utter sadness could easily be seen within them. Unable to torture him for any longer, I stepped back and held my phone out for him to take. He stared unseeing at my phone, not comprehending what it meant.
When he looked up at me, I uttered the words that had him smiling like the cat that got the canary.
“I’m in love with you, and I’m moving with you.”
And they lived happily ever after!
Acknowledgments
Editor: Kim Huther with Wordsmith Proofreading Services and Jennifer Leigh Jones with Bookends Editing.
Cover Designer: Katrina Curry with Crimson Phoenix Designs.
BETA & ARC Readers: The awesome girls of KZ Riley’s Wonder Readers.
Friends and Family: My husband, Zach, and my two beautiful daughters, Lillian and Rylee.
About the Author
KZ Riley is 29 years old and lives near Lubbock, Texas where the wind blows constantly. She has been married to her husband for seven years and they have two daughters together. She has been an avid reader for as long as she can remember and recently took that love to the next level. First, it started by being an ARC and BETA reader for authors, then she began her own review page to let others know of amazing books she was reading, and finally she came to the ultimate outcome: an author herself. For several years, she played with the idea of writing a story and even jotted down notes and storylines, but never had the courage to finish an idea and publish it. It was with the help from the Penned in Ink group that she put her fears aside and decided to go for it.
Hopefully you enjoy the awesomeness she has brought you and you will be kind enough to leave a review on Amazon and/or Goodreads.
Thanks so much for taking the time to read this story and I hope you will read more from me in the future.
Also by K.Z. Riley
At World’s End - An Apocalypse Anthology
The Gothic Grimoire Anthology
The Hack
Kelsie Rae
ABOUT THE HACK
Three wishes.
Two people wanting to change their lives.
One hacker with the power to fulfill it.
Published by Vixen Publishing
First Edition, 2019
Copyright © 2019 by Kelsie Rae
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the work of Kelsie Rae.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
About the Author
Also by Kelsie Rae
To all the little boys and girls who love Disney as much as I do.
1
The repetitiveness in which I live my day could rival a metronome. Wake up. Brush my teeth. Change my clothes. Scour the local farmer’s markets for breakfast. Serve lunch at the soup kitchen. Play football with the local rugrats. Keep the corner that I call home safe from gangs and street thugs. Etcetera. Etcetera.
Until I saw her.
She changed everything with a simple glance. Her mocha colored eyes sucking me in like a soap opera, promising drama, corruption, lust, the list goes on.
There was no hope of me surviving the wreckage, but I still pursued her.
She was trying to blend in when she was meant to stand out. Standing next to a basket of apples and completely oblivious to the effect she had on me. The effect she had on every single man in the bazaar.
I watched her from a distance, hiding in the shadows when I saw it. Her eyes darting across the market, and the tremor of fear emanating from her as she selected a crisp crimson apple from the farmer’s stand. My gaze follows hers to a few hundred yards away. Two men in tailored suits with dark sunglasses and earpieces inconspicuously placed in their ears. One man leads the search with an air of authority and immediately making my hackles rise. The guy reeks of wealth and opulence, wearing his arrogance like an overpowering cologne that stings the nostrils.
She’s in trouble.
Casually, I walk up to the gorgeous stranger with ebony hair and olive skin before placing my hand on her slender waist. She jumps in surprise at my foreign touch, then I lean forward and whisper in her ear. “You’re in trouble. The guys are separating as we speak. They’re hoping to surprise you from all sides. Follow me. I can help you.” She takes a sharp inhale before I continue, “Walk slowly. Don’t make them suspect anything. I’ll get you out of the market.”
Hesitantly, she pulls away and licks her lips while examining me. The stranger who just offered to help get her out of an obviously sticky situation.
She remains silent as the men begin to circle us like sharks.
We don
’t have much time.
“Trust me?” My eyes shine with vulnerability as she continues her assessment.
Cautiously, she nods her head before adding, “Yes?” in a crackly voice.
I intertwine our fingers like lovers, hoping to throw the strangers off our scent. “Good. Follow me.”
By some miracle, she does. One sure step after another, we weave our way to the center of the market where the majority of sweaty bodies mingle, fighting over the freshest fish and the cheapest produce.
Warily, I watch from the corner of my eye as her enemies stalk closer while attempting to appear inconspicuous.
Their element of surprise was blown the minute she spotted them and alerted me of their presence. There’s no chance in hell they can beat me in the bazaar. This is my home. Has been for as long as I can remember.
No. They’re just a bunch of poor saps about to get their asses handed to them.
They’re steps away when I tip over a set of boxes holding a variety of apples, oranges, and other citrus fruits. They roll everywhere, delaying our enemy’s pursuit and I grip the dark-haired beauty’s hand like a vise. We fly through the over-populated crowds like two bats out of hell, our lungs burning from exhaustion. My feet pound against the heated pavement from the hot summer sun before abruptly stopping at a hidden door in the alley.
I pull the woman into the dark space and close the door behind me before pressing my finger against her plump cherry lips.
“Shh,” I whisper as cursing ensues on the other side of the door.
She nods her assent, trying to quiet her heavy breathing.
When I’m sure the attackers are gone, I lead the girl through a maze of abandoned corridors and up a set of dusty stone steps until reaching my final destination.
My home.
It’s not much to look at, maybe a ten foot square of living space, but the view makes up for it.
Carefully, I watch her expression as she takes in the dingy mattress on the floor, the threadbare blanket haphazardly thrown on the top, and my precious collection of second-hand books neatly piled in the corner.
Her eyes light up when she spots my pet, and best friend, Abu, hanging out near the window.
“Aww...” Her voice trails off as she takes a step closer to my little monkey.
He screams at her, bounding over to me, and climbing onto my shoulder.
“Whoa, Abu. It’s all good, buddy,” I say soothingly before turning back to the gorgeous stranger whom I just risked my neck for. “Sorry, he’s not a big fan of other people.”
Her face is painted in shock from his overreaction. “It’s fine, I’m sorry I scared him.” As her cheeks heat in embarrassment, I feel the overwhelming need to give her an explanation.
“It’s nothing personal. I found Abu in a garbage can a few years ago, nearly beaten to death and left for dead. I took him in and watched after him until he got better. We’ve been inseparable ever since.”
She covers her mouth with her dainty little hand while I tell her how Abu became my buddy, and her disgust is palpable for the assholes who hurt him.
“That’s sickening,” she spits, “I hope you found them and turned them in to the authorities!”
I can’t help but scoff at the idea of the authorities getting off their asses and doing something. However, if I could get my hands on the bastards who hurt him, there would’ve been hell to pay. Unfortunately, I was never able to figure it out.
“I don’t know who did it.”
She squeezes her eyes shut, like it physically pains her to imagine the assailants getting away with something so screwed up. “I’m really sorry,” she apologizes even though she had nothing to do with the offense.
“Don’t be. Obviously, I never wanted him to get hurt, but if he hadn’t, we never would’ve met. And I don’t know what I’d do without him. I’m Aladdin, by the way.” I reach out my hand and she takes it without hesitation.
“Jasmine. Or Jazzy. It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for…” Her voice trails off as she struggles to describe exactly what happened in the bazaar. “For coming to my rescue, I guess?” She voices it like it’s a question before smiling shyly and peeking up at me with those large, almond-shaped eyes.
“Don’t mention it.”
“So…” She looks around the room before rocking back on her heels as an awkward silence envelops the room.
Spying the city’s skyline outside my window, I say, “It’s not much to look at, but I’ve always been a sucker for a good view.”
With a shrug, she waves me off. “That? I guess it’s pretty if you don’t look too closely.”
“Are you kidding? I’d kill to step foot near some of those places without being thrown on my ass.”
She looks at me pointedly before crossing her arms over her chest. “You might see freedom with all the money swirling in those buildings… But all I see are shackles.”
My brows furrow at her cryptic comment. “Shackles? You make it sound like a prison,” I scoff.
I watch as she swallows thickly then looks back out the window. “The grass isn’t always greener, Aladdin. You can go where you want. Do what you want without having to answer to anyone. I’d kill for that.”
Stepping closer to Jasmine, I gently put my hand on her shoulder and turn her to me. “You sound like you might know from personal experience.”
Her solemn expression doesn’t waver at my lightly veiled accusation. “Maybe I do.”
With my brows furrowing at her obscure confirmation, my mind scrambles to place this stranger. I don’t know her, which isn’t surprising, but... should I?
“Do you want to talk about it? I know we don’t know each other well, but maybe getting it off your chest would help.”
She smiles softly. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?”
“Am I supposed to?” I quirk my eyebrow.
She laughs lightly before continuing, “I guess not. It’s actually really refreshing that you don’t.”
“Come on,” I jest, “You can’t leave me hanging.”
Blushing, she tells me. “I’m the sole beneficiary to QUA Enterprises… or at least I will be if I ever get married.”
My eyes nearly bug out of my head as I process her words. “The largest oil company in the world?”
“Second largest.”
I chuckle at her correction. “Second largest, of course.”
“My dad wants to retire as head chairman, but he’s old-fashioned. He doesn’t want me to take his spot, he wants the man I marry to take it.” She scoffs at the barbaric outlook of her father. “Anyway, I was supposed to meet another potential husband today and I just… couldn’t. Ya know?”
I don’t know. Her situation is so foreign to mine, I might as well be an alien on an undiscovered planet.
“Talk about a mood killer, right?” She rolls her eyes before releasing a deep sigh. “Sorry. You definitely didn’t sign up for my sob story. And let’s be honest, you probably think I’m a spoiled little princess with daddy issues.” Turning to me, she continues, “Why don’t you show me around maybe? Take me out and show me what a normal person does on a Friday night? I’d kill to go dancing by myself without a dozen bodyguards surrounding me and threatening to cut the hand off of anyone who touches me.”
Now it’s my turn to scoff. Normal? I’m far from normal. I’m practically scum.
A thief.
A street rat.
A nobody.
But I don’t tell her that. Instead, I lace our fingers together without saying a word as sheer determination pulses through my veins. I’d do anything to take away the sadness that’s shining in her eyes. She might be out of my league, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to do everything in my power to make her happy. Even if it’s just for one night. And dancing is the first thing on the agenda.
2
We make it to the street before we’re spotted. That’s it. A five-minute walk out in the open is all it takes before I’m grabbed by the ba
ck of my rumpled t-shirt and shoved against a brick wall. I push off the rough exterior before throwing my elbow at my attacker while Jazzy screams in surprise.
“Stop it! Both of you!” She tugs on my wrist moments before I slam it against the stranger’s face. My target was his crooked nose that’s begging to be broken again. However, her simple touch is enough to calm the rage rushing through my veins and I pause to glance down at her.
The attacker takes the opportunity to sucker punch me in the jaw, causing my head to swing to my left while simultaneously seeing stars.
“Will you two stop it?” Jazzy shrieks before gripping the sides of my face and examining my injury that’s already starting to swell.
“Shit,” she mumbles under her breath as she gently brushes her thumb across the bruise. Looking up at me, our mouths mere inches from each other, she licks her lips. “This is all my fault. I’m so sorry.” Jazzy shakes her head in defeat before turning to the asshole who hit me.
His chest is heaving as his eyes zero in on Jazzy’s delicate hands cradling my face.
But it’s his voice to break the silence, not hers. “Get your ass in the car, Jasmine. Your father’s been looking everywhere for you and he’s not going to be pleased to find you slumming it with this filth.” He spits at my feet before turning to a flashy red car idling on the street.
Dawn to Dark Page 7