Dawn to Dark

by Halston James

  “It’s over,” he bargains. “If you pull the trigger, you’re going away for murder, not just smuggling.”

  “Take your shirt off,” she orders as she maneuvers herself around him, keeping the gun pointed at him.

  “Why?” he asks. “I’m not wired.”

  She steps behind him and slides the gun under his shirt, right over his spine. She moves her other hand around to the front and feels his chest, taking her time searching. She finds nothing. “If you set this all up, why aren’t you wired?”

  “Because we’ve got this place surrounded.” He glances at his daughter. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”

  Ari brings her hands to her mouth and nearly inaudibly mumbles, “I’m sorry.” Her tears fall on my palm.

  I glance at her father, whose gaze is bouncing between Max and me. He holds my gaze for a couple of seconds too long, flicks his eyes toward Ari, and then closes them.

  Fuck. I flip Ari around and bring her head to my shoulder, holding her there. Her sobs are muffled against me.

  Vanessa stands on her tiptoes and softly admits, “I’m going to miss this,” before dragging the gun up to the back of his neck and releasing the safety.

  The noise breaks through Ari’s thoughts. She wrenches free and rushes for her father, screaming, “Stop!” I grab her and hold her against my chest, locking her in my arms before she gets herself killed.

  “Okay,” Vanessa says, shifting the gun to point it at Ari and me.

  “No!” her father shouts and steps between us, just as Vanessa pulls the trigger—

  8

  Hero

  Ariana Merchant

  “Daddy!” I scream as he falls to the ground. I put pressure over the wound as blood spurts out and covers my fingers. “Oh, my God.”

  Max shrugs off his shirt and bunches it before holding it against the other wound in his chest. “Vanessa, you have to let us call an ambulance.”

  Derrick drops to his knees beside me and pulls out his phone.

  “I wouldn’t if I were you,” Vanessa says, causing all three of us to look up. She’s holding a gun directly at my father’s head and standing between his feet, no doubt deliberating over which one of us she’s going to take hostage. She chooses me, like I knew she would. “Stand up, Ari.”

  “No,” I say, refusing to leave my father.

  “I’m not going to ask again.”

  My father convulses, distracting me. The next thing I know, Max is toppled over his body, but I didn’t hear a gun shot. Derrick takes his place and holds the shirt over my father’s perforated abdomen with one hand while assessing the damage to Max. It looks like she hit him over the head with the bottom of the gun.

  “He needs a doctor!” I shout. “He’s going to die without one!”

  “He should have thought about that before he fucked me, then fucked me over.” She slips her hand under my armpit and tugs me to my feet.

  “Let her go,” Derrick says just as a commotion comes from outside. “Max has been live streaming this.”

  My eyes go wide as I watch Derrick pluck the cell phone out of Max’s back pocket. He holds the screen up, and it shows him on the floor with my father. “By now, one of our followers has already alerted the police, or if not, they will after they realize this isn’t a prank. Either way.” He turns the phone around to face us. “Your face is all over the Internet, and so is your confession.”

  Vanessa’s grip loosens around my arm just enough that I drop to my feet and crawl over to my dad. “He’s not breathing!” I scream as the police crash through the door, breaking it and overtaking Vanessa.

  She goes without a struggle.

  The nurse lets me into my dad’s room after hours of surgery. I finally stopped crying when she said he was going to be okay. The first shot shattered his shoulder blade but isn’t life threatening, and the one in his abdomen damaged one of his kidneys, but other than being one kidney lighter and slightly bone deficient, he’s going to be okay.

  “A lot of blood doesn’t necessarily mean a lot of damage,” Freya says as she shoves a cup of coffee in my face.

  “Thanks.” I grab it and roll my head to stretch out the tense muscles in my neck. “Are they still out there?”

  “Yeah, I think they just finished giving their statements to the police. They didn’t believe Griffin when he called it in. If it weren’t for your dad showing up, they’d think it was all a prank.”

  “They should have believed him.” I take a sip of my lukewarm coffee and squint my eyes, trying to make out the time through my exhausted pupils. “It took you an hour to get coffee?”

  She smirked. “I got distracted.”

  “With what?” I laugh.

  “Do you know Max is sprawled out on four chairs?”

  “Ahh,” I say with a curt nod. More like with whom.

  “How is it that boy always ends up shirtless?” She puffs out a breath through her teeth and takes a seat on the long couch next to me.

  “Well, I don’t know about always.”

  She snatches my coffee from me and takes a sip. “It’s frustrating how distracting it is.” She gulps down a good portion, since there’s no need to worry about burning her throat on the hot liquid, before I confiscate it.

  Hot or not, I need caffeine to stay up. I want to be here when my dad wakes up.

  “He’s cute, isn’t he?” She stretches her legs out over my lap.

  “Max?” I ask. I’m glad she’s no longer angry at me for getting her fired, but we both agree that my dad was just trying to get us both out of the diner. Cops told us he’s been working the case for a while now. Jetham traded some information for minor luxuries, and he ratted on Vanessa. They’ve been trying to catch her in the act for a long time, but she’s been careful. My dad got closer to her so he could keep an eye on her.

  “Yes, though Griffin is kind of cute too.”

  “Derrick’s cuter,” I give in.

  “And a hero too.”

  I share my coffee with her. “Technically, Max was the hero,” I point out. In our state, it isn’t illegal to record someone if one of the parties is in on the conversation. That’s why Max kept interacting.

  “Right? Who knew the jerk would be so smart?”

  “My guess? He had to study up, so he wouldn’t get his ass in trouble,” my dad’s voice cuts through our conversation.

  “Daddy!” I squeal as I rush over to him and plant a kiss to his cheeks. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’ve been better,” he says and cocks his head to the side to check on Freya. “I’m sorry I broke your phone.”

  “It’s okay. You’re getting me a new one.”

  He nods and winces with pain. I hit the nurse call button without him knowing. “Talking about phones,” he says, grimacing as he tries to move. “You should help Ari pick one out.”

  “Really?” I squeal. “Where the hell did that come from?”

  He raises his brow at my tone and chooses to ignore it, “Yes, but we can talk privacy with your social media accounts later.”

  The nurse comes in. “Look who’s awake.” She comes to the side of the bed where I am standing, and I step back to give her room. She pulls out a syringe. “You’re in pain?” she asks but knows the answer.

  “Not as much as I could have been.”

  “Now’s not the time to be brave, Daddy,” I say.

  He sighs deeply, wincing again. “A little bit,” he clarifies with a hoarse voice.

  The nurse injects the pain killers into the IV and says, “This’ll make you sleepy soon, so maybe tell these girls they can go home and sleep? And get those boys out of my waiting room. They keep trying to film the nurses.”

  He smiles and winks at the nurse.

  She exits the room, and my dad calls me over. “The Prince boy,” he says, still coherent. “He wanted to ask me if he could take you to prom.” He smiles. “Do you want to go?”

  “Yeah,” I say excitedly. “I’d love to go.”

&nbs
p; “Fine,” he says with a yawn. “You can tell him I said yes.”

  “Uhh… Uncle T? Are you feeling okay?”

  He chuckles, with no sign of pain this time. “I’m sleepy, but I mean it. Just tell him to keep his trident in his pants.”

  “His what?” I ask, laughing, but he doesn’t answer.

  I brush my fingers against his cheek and whisper, “I love you, Daddy.”

  Epilogue

  One month later…

  I walk down the stairs with my heels in my hand because one week of practice doesn’t make me a pro at walking down the stairs with them. I glance down at the prom dress my dad bought for me. It sparkles when the light hits the light blue and white sequins. Once I’m on flat land, I slide my heels on, step in front of the mirror, and adjust my hair.

  “I’m glad you wore it down,” my dad says as he and Derrick sneak up on me.

  “Daddy, you’re supposed to be resting.” I’ve been saying that every day since he got out of the hospital

  “You look beautiful,” Derrick says, dropping a kiss to my lips.

  Dad clears his throat just as Freya’s loud voice comes from the kitchen. “Hurry up! Max is about ten seconds away getting dickslapped!”

  “Freya!” my father scolds her.

  “Max loves annoying her,” Derrick says as he puts his hand in mine and leads me over.

  “I think Freya loves it,” I whisper as we enter the kitchen.

  Freya’s sitting at the kitchen island arguing with Max. “If you don’t stop shoving that camera in my face, I’m going to shove my corsage down your throat.”

  “I like it when you get all demanding like that.”

  “Would you two shut up?” Griffin interjects as he straightens his bowtie. “We’ve got to go. The limo’s here, and we still have to pick up my date on the way.”

  “Wait,” my Dad says from in front of the fridge. “I need a picture.”

  Max waves the video camera in his hand, and Freya waves the phone. “It’ll be all over the Internet soon, Mr. T.”

  “Please don’t remind me.” He’s still working on the social media thing.

  My dad points to the top of the fridge. “Prince, can you get my camera for me?” Derrick rushes over and gets a polaroid camera that belonged to my mom and hands it to my dad.

  He tells us all to line up. “What’s your prom theme?” he asks as he struggles to aim the camera with his one hand.

  We simultaneously say, “Under the Sea.”

  And he snaps our picture. While shaking the photo, he walks over to the newspaper article on our fridge, takes it down, and uses the magnet to put up our picture. We all gather around the fridge, while waiting for the picture to develop I can’t help but be grateful for the last couple of months.

  My mother’s death is no longer hindering us. I finally get to be part of the world I longed for. Kind of. Dad agreed to let me go to school with Freya for my final year of high school. Derrick won’t be there, but he’s not going far, and since he flunked English, Max will still be around.

  It finally feels like I have a life to look forward to.

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to all those who beta read the story and helped me venture into the young adult genre.

  About the Author

  Sonya’s a nerd—a cool nerd—who loves science, books, make-up and unicorns. She even has unicorn slippers and unicorn plushes adorn her office. It’s not obsession (or so she says), it’s simply an ode to her imaginative side.

  She believes in fairytales and in the beautiful things a mind can conjure. She’s a firm believer of empowering the crazy fictional ideas, putting them down on paper (figurative paper because she’s not a fan of writing in notebooks), and letting them flourish into a story.

  Don’t believe me? Ask her in any of her social media. She’s all about those connections.

  “There’s so much potential in a dream…

  a thought…

  not exploring it seems like such a waste of something absolutely beautiful.”

  Also by Sonya Jesus

  Knights After My Heart (Book 1)

  Knights Who Stole My Heart (Book 2)

  Knights Who Broke My Heart (Book 3)

  Knights Who Won My Heart (Book 4-Finale)

  Other Books

  31 Kisses

  The Woman in the Ivy Tower

  Courtney Shockey

  ABOUT THE WOMAN IN THE IVY TOWER

  With hair so long and skin that shines, the queen looks down over twisting vines.

  Bring her silk or priceless gifts, and she’ll seal your fate with a sweet, gentle kiss.

  Published by Vixen Publishing

  First Edition, 2019

  Copyright © 2019 by Courtney Shockey

  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 Courtney Shockey.

  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

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Courtney Shockey

  1

  The story of Rapunzel has been told through the centuries. You’ve probably heard some version of the original, but it doesn’t come close to the true origins. Romance has taken over the world, and morphs stories into fantasies. Sometimes, even warnings or tales of woe are twisted into fairytales. This is story is not.

  In a castle nestled in the side of a mountain, a woman with long, light-brown hair slept on a bed of lush pillows. Her smooth, bare skin never touched rock, or stone, or wood. She drank the sweetest wine and purest water from the falls. She demanded the freshest fruits at her table and seasoned meats whenever she craved their juices. Luxury began and ended with her.

  Her long arms lifted over her head as she stretched her limbs. A soft yawn fell from her lips, followed by a hum. Hands ran up her torso and arms, helping her up from the cushions. Her feet landed on a plush runner leading to the washroom. She followed the path into the room, and around to the inground bath. Two servants helped her into the steaming water and carried her to the middle of the bath, careful to keep her head above the water line.

  They carefully washed her body as two others washed her hair. When they finished, she was walked to the other side and lifted from the water into warm linens to be hand dried with care. Lotions and oils were worked into her skin as the four bath servants dried her long locks. Once her hair was dried, brushed, and braided, she continued into the next room to be dressed in a silk saree.

  She emerged from the clothing room into the hallway, following the runner on bare feet down the stairs and through the grand entryway. Her dining table was covered in her favorite fruits, cheese, and bread, the smell of it all making her stomach rumble. At the head of the table, her chair awaited. Fur lined the back, and the cushion was silk fabric stuffed with feather—the same as all the others in the room. She sat and began eating, and everyone in the castle sighed in relief. They’d survived. For the time being.

  She ate her fill and the table was cleared, and then people bustled around in the kitchen to get everything washed and stored away quickly. The queen of the castle had a temper that rivaled no other.

  After her meal, she would walk the path from the dining hall, up the stairs to the very top of the castle. The final door opened to a lookout point near the top of the mountain side. The valley below held a small peppering of houses and fields. Most of the village lived between the castle and the valley in small homes built into the mountain. A system
of tunnels ran through it, much like a honeycomb, linking most of the houses together.

  The queen looked out over her domain and felt her powers waning. She needed to feast to restore her inner self, though food wasn’t what she had in mind. She needed the fuel only a lover could give her. A shiver rolled down her spine at the thought. She could make the crops grow with a wave of her hand if she wanted. The land beneath her feet called out to her, sang in her blood, begged to rise to the surface and consume the lowly creatures inhabiting the earth. But that exerted too much energy, and she needed the humans. They fed her power, while the plants fed her body. Balance was key.

  In the distance, she spotted movement. She looked from the houses in the valley and noticed the villagers running around below. She called to her raven familiar, and the bird answered within seconds. She sent the image of where she needed him to fly, and he dove down to the valley a moment after.

  She closed her eyes and focused on him. When she opened her eyes again, she only saw what he saw. It took him nearly a minute to fly low enough to clearly see the villagers below. They were, indeed, scurrying to their homes seeking shelter from whatever the coming storm might be.

  She sent him an image of the movement she saw in the distance, and he changed his direction to investigate. As he flew to the area, she looked around. Nothing seemed out of place or unordinary. Just empty. Then, he made it to the end of the fields and spotted a small army—men of every age clothed in armor and shields marching in on her territory.