Wicked Redemption (Dark Book 2)

by Ashton Blackthorne

  “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

  As she turned from me, I noticed her back covered in scratches bleeding profusely.

  “Princess, are you okay?” I grabbed her so that I could inspect her wounds.

  She shrugged.

  “I’m fine, Daddy. It only stings a little.”

  Taking her upstairs, I quickly cleaned her wounds and dressed her in a sexy silk nightie.

  “There now, Princess. Does that feel better?” I kissed on the top of her head.

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  Pulling her to me, we cuddled beneath the covers. Her punishment could wait until the morning.

  21

  Amber

  The morning of the taping, I was shaking. I’d contacted Kristen and pitched my idea to her. She loved it and had me send over my story so she could familiarize herself with it before the show.

  But now I was having second thoughts.

  Everyone would see the show.

  Everyone including my family.

  Ash took me to breakfast early that morning. We were sitting there eating a delectable frittata when I was overcome with anxiety. The room started to feel as if it were closing in on me. Perspiration broke out all over my back making my blouse feel glued to my skin.

  “Ash, I don’t think I can do this.”

  He dropped his fork on his plate.

  “What?”

  “I can’t go on air and talk about this. I feel so sick right now. I just can’t do it. I thought I could, but I can’t.” I wiped my mouth with the cloth napkin.

  “Amber, you’re strong. I think that you need to do the interview with Kristen. You just said so many women have experienced the same trauma you did. I think if other women could see that you have not only survived, but thrived in spite of the evil that was inflicted upon you then they, too, might develop the same courage you have.”

  I thought about what he said. I agreed, but I just didn’t know if I could go public with the fact that I had been molested by my own brother.

  And my family would likely see the interview as well.

  What would they think?

  I wouldn’t name Mark as the brother who had perpetrated the abuse, but I knew they would figure it out.

  “Ash, I agree, but my family will know. With social media what it is today, it will get back to them.”

  “Yes, it will, so you have to prepare yourself for that. But, Amber, your relationship with your family is nonexistent at this point. Both your parents are deceased. The only person in your family you even speak to occasionally is your sister. Perhaps you could tell her what you’re doing first.”

  I shook my head.

  “No, Ash, I couldn’t. I’ll just say it was a family member, but I won’t specifically say it was one of my brothers.”

  “That’s your decision to make, Amber, but I support whatever you decide to do. I believe in you. I always have.”

  I was touched. He looked at me with that magical sparkle in his eyes.

  “Thank you, Ash. That means so much to me.”

  “So are you going to do it?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He kissed me passionately right there in the restaurant. Several patrons turned to watch and smiled.

  “I’m so proud of you, Amber.”

  Walking into the studio, I could hardly breathe as I felt a major panic attack coming on. I tried the deep breathing exercises Melissa had taught me. With Ash by my side, I felt the anxiety slowing leaving my body.

  Sitting in the makeup artist’s chair, I watched as he put the finishing touches on my hair and makeup.

  “You look exquisite, my dear.” He spun me around in the chair dramatically.

  I had to agree. The man was a genius. No one could tell how many tears I’d shed in the days leading up to this.

  “You’re going to do great, baby.” Ash kissed me lightly on the cheek and squeezed my hand.

  Nodding, I walked out to the stage where Kristen Kramer was waiting.

  The grip attached a mic to my blouse.

  “This feel okay?”

  “It’s fine.”

  Kristen Kramer was even more beautiful in person. Her long dark hair was cut shoulder length in a typical news anchor fashion. Her Chanel suit was a light blue and matched her eyes.

  “Hi, Amber. We’re going live in a just a few minutes. How do you feel?”

  “I’m good. I’m ready.”

  “Okay, you’re going to do just fine. Just try to speak clearly and not rush your words too much. That was the producer’s complaint about my first TV interview.”

  “Okay, we’re live in four…three….two….”

  Instead of saying one, the production guy just waved his hand down.

  “Good morning, New York and I’m Kristen Kramer. I’m here today with Amber Michaelson, whom you all know as being the business partner and girlfriend of the billionaire investment media sensation, Ashton Blackthorne. Recently, Amber and Ashton suffered a traumatic experience where Amber was kidnapped and Ashton was stabbed trying to rescue her.” Kristen paused for a moment. I sat trying to appear calm.

  “After surviving that harrowing experience, Amber began having flashbacks to earlier even more traumatic time in her childhood. Well, she’s here today to share her experiences with us all in hopes that other women will draw strength from her.”

  The camera focused on me. I felt like a deer caught in the headlights. At first, I couldn’t speak. Then, I noticed Ash standing off to the side a few feet away from the camera. He smiled and waved at me.

  “Thank you for having me, Kristen. It’s an honor to be here with you and with the rest of the world whoever is watching this. As you said, I’m the girlfriend of Ashton Blackthorne and also an executive at Blackthorne International, one of the largest investment banks on the East Coast. I’ve lived a crazy life, to be sure, one that has been filled with adventure, joy and yes, a lot of heartache.”

  “So, Amber, tell us what happened in these flashbacks. Why were they significant?”

  I stopped to sip the glass of water in front of me. The lights from the stage above were starting to make me perspire slightly. The thick fabric of the Chanel suit I wore didn’t help either.

  “Initially, after the kidnapping, I began to have instances of heavy anxiety. I couldn’t breathe, I started forgetting things, and I felt dizzy all the time. At first, I thought it was just trauma from the kidnapping, but soon it became clear it was more than that.”

  “How so, Amber?”

  “Well, other things started happening. I began to feel extreme anxiety anytime I was around certain things. For example, the aroma of certain foods would trigger uncontrollable shaking within me.”

  “Hmmm. So is that what led you to seek help?”

  “No, not right away. Ashton, my boyfriend, knew something was very wrong. He encouraged me to seek help, but I just dismissed him. I didn’t want to be labelled crazy or put on medication. But other events happened that changed my mind.” I laughed nervously.

  “What happened, Amber?”

  I sighed.

  “Ashton began finding me asleep in the morning in the closet. I wouldn’t remember waking up to crawl in there. I would wake up and be totally confused as to how I got there. I thought maybe it was a sleep disorder. But then, one day at work, I….” I trailed off.

  “You what?” Kristen prompted me.

  I hesitated a minute. This part was so painful for me to recall.

  “I was missing time. I was in a meeting with a client. I felt extremely ill and went to the restroom. I vomited several times. After cleaning up, I went back to resume my meeting. Only when I got back I found the client was gone. I questioned my secretary and she informed me that not only had the client left, but that hours ago we had concluded the meeting. She and I had signed papers and I had given them to my secretary. I had been there, but I couldn’t recall any of it. There were over two hours that I had been there speaking and engaging with people and I couldn’t r
emember a second of it.”

  Kristen’s eyes widened.

  “Wow, Amber. That must’ve been frightening.”

  “It was, Kristen. I was completely stunned. I didn’t want to tell Ash, but I was so scared I had to. He immediately got in touch with the best therapist in New York. I was so hesitant about going, but I knew something was very wrong.”

  “So, what happened?”

  “Well, Kristen, as we began therapy I didn’t recall anything significant at first. I had endured some trauma I easily recalled which was a sexual assault by a neighbor. But that wasn’t what caused the missing time. After several sessions, my therapist convinced me to try hypnosis. I finally agreed and after a few sessions the source of my distress was revealed to me.”

  Kristen leaned forward.

  “What was that?”

  I cleared my throat.

  “That I had been repeatedly molested for several years by a close family member.” Just saying the words made me feel sick.

  “Wow, Amber. That must’ve been devastating.”

  “It was. Once that veil had been pierced, my entire childhood unraveled before my eyes. I recalled every single instance of it. This person was very close to me and he would assault me nightly before bed. He would…he would…tell me never to tell. It was our special secret he said.”

  Kristen shook her head.

  “He told me that it was natural what we were doing. I can remember his fingers…his sticky hands…” I broke off choking up.

  Kristen handed me a tissue.

  “So, what made you want to come forward now after all these years?”

  Wiping my eyes, I looked at the camera then at Ash.

  “Because I know so many other women have endured sexual assault in their childhood, maybe even currently by a trusted family member or friend. I want them to know that although something awful has happened to you it doesn’t have to define you. I don’t like to think of myself as being a victim of sexual abuse. I’m a survivor of sexual abuse.”

  Kristen clapped her hands.

  “Absolutely.”

  “And not only have I survived, I’ve thrived as Ash likes to say. I’ve overcome my past, I’ve built a fantastic career and I have a wonderful relationship with the most fabulous man ever.”

  Ash gave me a thumbs up.

  Kristen laughed.

  “Amber, you are definitely more than a survivor. You’re a clothing designer too now, aren’t you, Amber?”

  I nodded.

  “Yes, I’m designing my very own lingerie line coming soon to our lingerie and marital aid store called ‘Blackthorne’s Dungeon’.”

  “Marital aid?”

  I chuckled.

  “A tasteful way of saying sex toys, Kristen.”

  “I see. It certainly appears that you’ve moved on from your traumatic past. Well, there you have it, ladies and gentlemen, Amber Michaelson.”

  “I also want to let viewers know, Kristen, that there are resources out there for sexual abuse survivors. There are wonderful therapists and support groups I encourage any woman or man who has experienced this type of trauma to seek help. Don’t give up and don’t feel ashamed. You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s the abuser who is ALWAYS in the wrong never the one being violated.”

  Kristen nodded.

  “At the end of this broadcast, there are phone numbers and websites on the screen you may contact. Thank you for being here, Amber.”

  “Thank you for having me, Kristen.”

  22

  Ayden

  A few weeks later found me deep in the black abyss. Sinister had brought several bags of smack home. I tried, oh how I tried, to resist, but once he started cooking up, I knew within moments I was back.

  Back into the black pit of despair.

  One day Sinister caught me frantically cleaning up the used needles and throwing away the blackened spoons.

  “Where’s the fire, Donovan?”

  “Don’t call me that,” I hissed.

  “What you want me to call you Blackthorne? Sorry, man, I can’t do it. You’ll always be Donovan to me.”

  I ignored him as I took a wet cloth and ran it over the table top.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Donovan?”

  “Ash said something about stopping by. I don’t want him to see I’m using again.”

  Sinister roared with laughter.

  “I guess he won’t notice this then?” He grabbed my arm decorated with fresh track marks.

  Jerking away from him, I pulled my sleeve down.

  “No, not if I keep the sleeve down.”

  Sinister stood in front of me blocking my way. He reached out to take the gold cross I wore between his fingers.

  “So, you think you’ve been redeemed? Born again, is that it?”

  I shrugged. I was beginning to have serious doubts about having him stay with me. I’d made a promise to myself and my dead father that I would stay clean and try and lead a productive life.

  But look at me.

  I was trying desperately to hide the evidence of the drug binge I’d been on the past weekend with Sinister.

  “Leave me alone, man.” I brushed his hand from me.

  “Donovan, let’s face it. You and I are two of a kind. People like us don’t fucking change. So you can wear your little gold cross and pretend to your rich bitch asshole brother that you’ve changed, but you’re still the same shit stain junkie from the streets just like me.”

  His words reverberated throughout the house.

  Never change, never change.

  What the fuck did he know? I was about to tell him off, to tell him to get the fuck out of my house when I glanced down at the angry, red track marks on my arm.

  I hadn’t changed.

  Not at all.

  I pushed past Sinister and went into my bedroom. Sasha was lying curled up on the bed sleeping like an angel. Her wrists were various shades of blue and purple from the tight restraints. Red lashes decorated her beautiful ass from last night’s whipping.

  Administered solely by me.

  And she’d called out the safe word twice before I stopped.

  I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hazel eyes were rimmed with red.

  Undoing the clasp on the chain, I let the gold cross drop to the dresser. There was no hope for me.

  I’d been let out of prison and sought vengeance.

  But found redemption.

  Wicked redemption.

  Deep in bowels of a Midwestern city, a handsome, brooding man sat on a leather sofa staring at the gorgeous blonde on his TV.

  Without warning, he chucked his full can of beer at the TV.

  “Fucking bitch!” He yelled as he jumped up and kicked everything off the coffee table. Cigarette ashes from the ashtray flew everywhere.

  Stumbling to his feet, he tore through his house pushing everything to the floor. Screaming with rage, he kicked holes in the thin walls.

  Collapsing with exhaustion, he grabbed his phone scanning through his pictures.

  Finally, he came to the one he was searching for. A beautiful little girl with long blonde curls.

  A little girl who grew up to become the same woman he’d seen on the television.

  His lips curled upwards in an evil grin.

  He knew what to do.

  It was time the world knew his story.

  And knew what a fucking slut she really was. She and her rich ass boyfriend, the great Ashton Blackthorne wouldn’t know what hit them.

  Quickly, he dialed his phone.

  “Yeah, Tim, I need some help. I’m planning a trip to New York. I need to know what type of gun I can get that is quiet, but will do the job.”

  He was silent a moment.

  “Oh yeah, it’s one of those jobs. $800? I need ammo, too. Okay, no problem. I’ll be right over.”

  He laughed as he hung up. He tossed a few clothes in a bag.

  Picking up his gray cat, Jackson, he took him across the street to the neigh
bor girl’s house and put him on the doorstep with a note.

  She’d always loved Jackson. She’d be happy to have him. That little girl was sweet and innocent.

  Not like the bitch on TV.

  He walked back to his house. He turned off all the lights and left leaving the door unlocked.

  Not that it mattered. He wouldn’t be coming back.

  Not ever.

  THE END

  Exclusive FIRST look at Justified, book three of the Dark Series coming August 2017!

  A tall, muscular guy came walking towards me. He was just the kind of guy you’d expect to be lurking in an alley. A lit cigarette dangled from his slack lips.

  “So, Sinister, they tell me you’re just the type of guy for a job like this.”

  I closed my eyes as he said my name. Never in the twenty plus years I’d been going by that name had it ever sounded so…sinister before.

  Flipping the lighter on, I lit the cigarette in my mouth. I took a long drag before answering him.

  “I used to be.”

  The guy’s blue eyes were shifty. He looked all around as he stuffed his hands in his back pocket. I didn’t trust him for a second.

  “I’ve got money. I can pay you well for your time.” He pulled a huge wad of cash out of his back pocket.

  Glancing around, I checked to see if he’d been followed. The alley was clear.

  I sighed and took the cash he was holding out for me. I quickly counted it. There was over $10,000.

  Cash.

  “Man, I don’t know what you heard, but I don’t do that type of shit anymore. I just got paroled. I’m not looking to be flipped back in.”

  He cocked his eyebrow at me.

  “So, you’re playing hardball with me, huh? Trying to up the ante? Fine, I’ve got a whole lot more where that came from.”

  I stared at the cash in my hands. With Ayden kicking me out and the Brotherhood after me, I needed it badly.

  All I’d have to do was just off two people.

  Just a rich asshole and his old lady.

  Just like that.

  I sighed.

  “Okay, man, I’ll do it, but I want $25,000 cash in hand before the job is done.”