by Jaden Wilkes
The next day she was picked up by a street gang and saved, as much as a stupid, prideful whore could be saved. She was almost seventeen at this point…or could have been eighteen; she’d lost track of the years during her time in the brothel. The leader, simply known as Boian, took a liking to her and kept her close once he found out she could read. Their mutual respect and friendship inevitably lead to a relationship, one that served them both well and blossomed into a fiery love.
Boian was no more than a boy himself, nineteen and strong, tall and proud…and devastatingly handsome. He was also ruthless and cunning, but possessed a strong moral code that he stuck with religiously. It didn’t follow the same code as those living inside of the law, but it was an honourable set of rules nonetheless.
He ruled the underground, miles and miles of dank, dark warrens and tunnels under the city streets. He was just and kind to those who served him, but cutthroat and deadly to those he saw as his enemy. He had been an orphan, tossed out of the orphanage at the age of ten, deemed too old to be adoptable and too mean to keep around. Thus, he became the Orphan King; the head of hundreds of lost children, those thrown to the curb the moment they’d been born, their mothers and fathers unknown to them.
For this, Ioana stood out among the rest, having had a family to raise her and keep her warm and safe until she’d been taken. She seemed like a foreigner to them all and was constantly barraged with questions about having a mother and father, people who loved her.
She was happy with them all and ran with Boian for three years, until just yesterday, the day she realized that she was pregnant with his child. There was no way she could have a baby down here among the orphans and waifs, thieves and murderers, glue sniffers and drug addicts…among her chosen people.
She made the decision that first moment she felt the baby kick and finally understood what it was and why she had been so exhausted; she was going to make the long journey home. She woke early, before anyone in the great underground cavern stirred. She and Boian had been given the gift of privacy in their little back tunnel; this afforded her more autonomy than most. She paused in the light of the stolen flashlight she clutched in her hand and looked at him one last time. He was beautiful when he slept, his angular face turned soft and angelic. He looked like one of the paintings in the church, with thick black curls framing his smooth face. It wasn’t until he opened his dark eyes that you realized you were in the presence of a very old soul, one who could just as easily make love to you or slit your throat, depending on your next move.
She leaned and kissed him for the last time and laid her hand on his chest. She felt the comforting rise and fall of his rhythmic breathing and smiled. She really did love him; she just didn’t love where life had taken them. If only they had been raised together in her little village and he a farm boy instead of the king of orphans. If only life hadn’t been so cruel, she would be curled up with him now, his hand protectively on her stomach, feeling their baby kick. If only…
She stood before she lost her nerve. She turned and left the tunnel, silently telling every sleeping soul a farewell. She was fond of them all, each one in a different way but collectively as a rag tag type of family. She passed the night guards and told them some story about wanting to get to the fruit sellers early to pinch a couple oranges for Boian, as a gift for him. They commented on her kindness and her ears burned in shame as she left him forever.
If only she had told him about the baby, perhaps he would have talked her out of leaving with promises of a better life, of changing their circumstances.
If only she had told him so she didn’t find herself hours outside of Bucharest, alone on the highway, heading for home.
If only she had told him, she wouldn’t have decided to spend the night on the side of the road, at a small rest stop in the middle of nowhere. She took her last crust of hard bread from her pack and nibbled on it as she watched the sun setting. She’d been walking all day and her heart was growing heavier with each passing mile. She missed him already, longing for him as a drowning man longed for his last breath.
If only she would have told him, she wouldn’t have been interrupted by bright headlights cutting through the darkening night. She wouldn’t have jumped off the ground as a long, black car rolled up beside her.
If only she had told him, she wouldn’t have been dragged into the car, kicking and screaming until a punch to the side of her head forced her into the abyss.
Her last thought as she slipped away was of Boian, his eyes shining when she made him laugh, his face so fierce as he spilled his seed inside of her, his heart pounding in his chest as he made his declarations of love… and his baby. If only…if only…
About the Author
Jaden Wilkes lives on the prettiest farm in BC. She shares her space with her husband, children, an Irish Wolfhound named Tiberius, and several horses. When not writing, she can be found lurking around the dark corners of the internet looking for artful porn gifs and trying to convince people to buy her books…so thank you for buying her book.
Public Service Announcement: Not much to say about this one. I suppose how you interpret this novel will tell you a lot about yourself. Also, always use condoms. Seriously.
Previous Work:
Reverse Cowgirl, my first book. A sweet, steamy tale of love reunited.
Dirty Little Freaks, my third book. Hot sex, dirty talk, drugs, rock n roll and a love like no other.
The Beast, the first book in The Beast Series. Dark erotic romance about finding love from the ruins of your past.
Slutburbia, Volume One in a two part serial about the dirty lives of suburbia.
Therapist, a dark and crazy mind fuck in the head of a sociopath. Nothing is what it seems.
Contact me:
Please feel free to contact me. I can be found in many of the following places, sometimes all at once…:
Website.
Email.
Facebook.
Goodreads.
Twitter.
Mailing list. Don’t miss out on any teasers or free chapters of upcoming work! Plus crock pot recipes.