by Seven Steps
Free Fall
Dimensions Series
Book 2
Seven Steps
Copyright ©2016 by Seven Steps
All rights reserved by the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals, or persons, living or dead, is wholly coincidental.
No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, recording, by information storage and retrieval or photocopied, without permission in writing from Seven Steps.
Edited by Genevieve Scholl
Cover design Photo_Area
Interior book design by Seven Steps
Proudly Published in the United States of America
Also by Seven Steps
Science Fiction Romances
Saving Kiln – Venus Rising Book 1
The Fall of Arees – Venus Rising Book 2
The Martian King: Venus Rising Book 3
Night of the Broken Moon (A Venus Rising Companion Short Stories)
The Escape (A Venus Rising Prequel)
Time Bomb – Dimensions Series Book 1
Free Fall – Dimensions Series Book 2
Collision Course – Dimensions Series Book 3
Saving Nadir – Dimensions Series Book 4
Leilu – Dimensions: Origins Book 1
Phineas - Dimensions: Origins Book 2
Taklin - Dimensions: Origins Book 3
Thrillers
Before I Wake
Awaken
Contemporary Romance
The Last Rock King
Peace in the Storm
The Beginning of Forever
Let’s Connect
Sign up for my monthly newsletter
Sign up for free Advanced Review Copies of my Science Fiction Works (Don’t forget, you’ll have to leave a review)
Website:
WWW.SEVENSTEPSAUTHOR.COM
Facebook:
WWW.FACEBOOK.COMSEVENSTEPSAUTHOR
Facebook Readers Group:
Seven Steps Readers Group
Twitter:
WWW.TWITTER.COMSEVENWRITES
EMAIL:
[email protected]
What is Phoenix Prime?
Phoenix Prime is a Ph.D. level workshop that spans approximately four months. It uses applied industrial psychology to address components of writing, marketing, branding, business and contract issues, productivity, etc. that combine Creative Writing and business perspectives.
The participants will create a portfolio to showcase their work alongside students in doctoral programs in several major universities. The objective, in addition to expanding the professional growth of all the participants, is to study the impact of the independent author-publisher on the commercial fiction industry.
Free Fall
Dimensions Series
Book 2
“A person's a person, no matter how small.”
― Dr. Seuss, Horton Hears a Who!
Chapter 1
“Sorcha, I am your husband.”
Susan’s jaw went slack. Her eyes widened and her shoulders slumped.
Holy crap. Did he just say husband? I’m only eighteen. I’ve never even had a boyfriend, let alone married anyone. How can he be my husband? I don’t even know his name!
Panic shot through her chest, tightening her lungs. Her eyes scanned the mid-sized spaceship, desperately searching for a way to escape. Only a small bedroom, a tiny kitchen, and the cockpit looked back at her. There didn’t seem to be a way out. Terror rose in her like a tsunami, washing away all of her reason.
I can’t be trapped here! This has to be a joke! There can’t be a spaceship in Connecticut. Those types of things happen in cornfields and backwoods. This has to be one of those prank shows. Maybe I’m on candid camera?
She went from searching for an exit to searching for a camera crew. When she found none, her heart beat hard enough to explode and her breath came in short pants.
This can’t be real. Maybe I’m in a coma. Or worse. Maybe I’m dead!
Her throat tightened as, one by one, her nerves frayed and broke apart. The room tilted, black spots encroaching on the edge of her vision. She reached for the work bench, steading herself as tears clawed up her throat. There was so much she hadn’t done in her young life. She’d never had friends or family, or even a cat. She didn’t want to die knowing that she’d never truly been loved.
Her gaze rose to the dark haired, handsome man in front of her. He wiped his hands on his grey jumpsuit, his sun kissed skin turning paler by the second.
“Who are you?” she asked. “Tell me the truth.”
Her voice came out soft and weak. She wiped away the few tears that dripped down her cheeks and attempted to stand up tall. She wouldn’t cry. Not in front of him. No matter what he did to her, no matter how bad it got, she wouldn’t cry. Even if she died broken, she would die strong.
The man’s feet rooted in place. He made no move to come closer to her, or to reach for her. His ears had turned a dark pink. The color swept down to his cheeks.
His pitiable look made her heartbeat slow and the tightness of her lungs loosen.
He doesn’t look like the killers on television. In fact, he looks as nervous as me. Good. Maybe he’ll take me back to my apartment. That is, if I’m still alive.
To her left was a scratched, wooden work bench with what looked like machine parts scattered all over it.
Maybe I can hit him with one of those parts, then find a way of here.
She took a step closer to the bench, keeping her eyes on him.
“I know you don’t remember me,” he said. He spoke slowly, enunciating every word as if afraid she might not understand him or his odd accent. But why he would think that? He’d been directing her through the city for the last half hour. She’d understood him then, didn’t she? Why would he think that had changed? “I suppressed your memories when I sent you away.”
Susan’s brain slowed. She replayed his words in her mind, processing them syllable by syllable, letter by letter, breath by breath.
Suppressed my memories? Sent me away? What is this creep talking about?
Less than an hour ago, she’d been working as an IT Analyst. Sure, she was bored out of her mind and lonely, but it was a life. A normal life. Then, the horn sounded in her head and everything changed. Her city, Middleborough, Connecticut, was left in ruins, and she was beamed up, with tall, dark, and sketchy.
She thought about the little boy she saved in the streets. Saw his green eyes, his curly hair. Remembered the fear and anguish on his small face as the cable wires sliced him in half.
No. You can’t think about that now. You have to focus. You have to protect yourself.
The large man stepped forward, and her stomach clenched. She envisioned him tackling her to the ground, and she balled up her fist. If he was going to try to take her down, she would not make it easy for him. Though he was huge, like an offensive lineman football player, she was going to go down swinging. She wasn’t sure how much damage she would do, but she would surely try.
She took a deep breath, and planted her feet in a wide stance, ready for the man’s attack.
She waited. And waited some more. Only, there wasn’t an attack. He was frozen in place again, his eyes wide and dejected, his mouth squeezed into a tight, flat line.
What game is he playing? What is he going to do with me?
“Sorcha, please. You don’t have to be afraid of me. I would never hurt you. I love you.”
Love? She snorted. No one had ever loved her. No
t that she could remember anyway.
She raised her chin, and forced her mind to stay alert. Whatever he had planned, she’d be ready.
Taking in a deep breath to keep her voice steady and strong, she said, “I’m not afraid of you.”
His reaction startled her. She expected him to be enraged. To come charging at her and pummel her for her insolence. Instead, his frown lifted into a small, crooked smile, turning the darkness that had settled on him into light. She was surprised to see how handsome he was when he smiled.
Focus, Susan. Focus or you’ll die.
“This ship hasn’t been the same without you,” he said, his deep voice a low thunder in the metal room. The sound seemed to come through the floor and move through her feet, her calves, her knees, making them wobble. “It’s been quiet. Lonely.”
Lonely? Try living my life. It’s like I have person repellant on me or something.
“Take me back to my apartment,” she said. “I want to go home right now.”
“You are home,” he replied. “This has been our home for two years. But you don’t remember that because I took those memories from you.” His eyes turned far away. “You were always barefoot. You said you loved the feel of the carpet on your toes.”
She looked down at the floor. Everywhere except for the pad she had stood on just a moment ago was covered in thick blue carpet. Carpet that called to her to run her fingers over it. She had always loved the feel of carpet beneath her feet. It comforted her. But, the man couldn’t know that. It was impossible.
“You were always too hot or too cold. We did experiments on the perfect temperature for you. Seventy nine degrees when you were awake. Fifty seven degrees when you were asleep.”
The small smile fell into a frown again. Darkness settled on his face like a cloak. She wished she could lift the cloak from him and find the brightness again. The light suited him. Every word he said speared through her heart.
But why? I don’t know this man. I don’t even know his name!
She shook her head, determined on not falling for any of his tricks. She didn’t understand why they felt so real. Like he was telling the truth. She smoothed back her heavy, black curls and made her best attempt at a glare, but, for some reason, the more the man spoke, the less afraid and angry she became.
I don’t understand.
“You taught me how to fight, and I taught you how to mix ammonia and hydrochloric acid to make smoke bombs. We would talk for hours, and then you were gone and there was no one to talk to. No one to hold. No one to kiss.”
His eyes dropped to her lips, making her cheeks heat. Her heart banged in her chest, as if trying to beat its way out of her and run to him. She cursed her treacherous body’s reaction.
Stop it, Susan. This man is not to be trusted. You have to concentrate.
Even as she said it, the man’s intense attention filled her with nervousness, making her hands shake. His storm gray eyes swept over her, taking in every detail. His powerful body flexed and strained, as if he were holding himself back.
But, it didn’t make sense. If he was going to attack her, why didn’t he do it already? What were his intentions?
His eyes narrowed. The ends of his lips twitched upward. The air between them turned electric, and she felt very much like prey. But, the thought didn’t make her feel threatened. It was … thrilling. Her head swam at the thought. Why should she react so strongly to a man she just met? A man who smelled like a mix of soap and motor oil.
Susan! she chided herself. You don’t belong here. You have to get out of this, this, wherever this is, and find the police! Don’t buy whatever this whack job is selling!
She ripped her thoughts away from his spell. From his thick, black, curly hair that her fingers yearned to touch. From his stormy eyes. From his full lips.
You can do this. You can convince him to let you out of here.
“You don’t have to be afraid,” he said. “I’m here to protect you.”
She laughed out loud at that. “Yeah. Great job you’re doing at that. I just leveled a whole city block with my mind.”
He paused for a moment, as if unsure of what to do.
“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” he muttered. “They weren’t supposed to find you. I’d taken every precaution. At least, I thought I did.”
His body gave him away. Every sweep of his evasive eyes, his frown, the way he wiped his hands on his jumpsuit, leaving little sweat stains. She knew that look. She’d felt it deep in her heart ever since the horn had started going off in her head and the world went to crap around her.
Guilt. Cold, hard, penetrating guilt.
The possibility that she could be talking to the person who’d single handedly ruined her life made fury rise in her chest. She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.
“You had something to do with what happened to me?” she asked, her question filled with accusation.
He looked like a chastised child. A very large, very handsome chastised child.
“It’s good to see that you are becoming your old self, Sorcha.” He tried to keep his voice soft, but she didn’t miss the bitterness and anger that colored the words. “Blaming me for things was what you did best.”
“Stop calling me Sorcha! That’s not my name. My name is Susan Forrester. Now tell me what you did to me!”
Her name sounded foreign in her ears. As if it belonged to someone else. But why should it? It was her name, wasn’t it? The day had been so crazy that she was suddenly unsure. Everything was a mess. She didn’t even know who she was anymore.
He advanced forward again, thrusting his hand out to grab at her. His voice rose with each word.
“I did what I had to do. What you asked me to do! I didn’t want to. You made me do it!”
“No!” she screamed back at him, covering her ears with her hands, blocking out the lies and insane stories.
He pulled her close, cradling the back of her head with his massive hand. She thrashed, slamming her fist in his firm chest. He barely seemed to notice. Only pulled her closer.
She saw the look in his eye. He was going to kiss her.
No! He can’t! I won’t allow it!
“Don’t touch me!” she cried out, unable to pull away from his vice-like grip.
Half of her mind exploded in horror at the very real possibility that he might violate her, while the other half burst with joy at being in his arms. Something told her that it wasn’t the first time he’d held her.
But it can’t be. I’ve never seen this man before in my life.
“I may have suppressed your memories, but I know you’re still in there, Sorcha.”
“That’s not my name. My name is Susan!”
“Susan is the name I gave to you so that you could hide. But the hiding is over now. It’s time to come out.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
She pushed his arms down and rushed to the back of the ship, away from him and the confusing feelings that he caused to spring up in her heart. But he was too fast. Before she got three steps, he had hauled her back.
Desire, terror, and confusion battled fiercely in her mind.
His scent surrounded her and beckoned to her. A piece of her wanted to drown in it, while the rest of her wanted to fight against him. To push him back.
“Don’t touch me!” she screamed.
“I have waited over a year for this.”
What?
His lips were on hers, breaking through her defenses, weakening her. It was as if she had come home. His kisses were methodical and familiar. Like he’d done it a million times before. As if he had spent a lifetime perfecting just the right way to kiss her. The best way to mix anticipation, pressure, and movement to ring the most pleasure from her. After a year of not being touched by another living soul, his arms around her felt glorious and his lips awoke every sensation in her body. Her nerves hummed. Her heart raced. Her lungs took in deep huffs of his soapy scent. Her head spun, and
the world slowed. He was a drug. A high that she desperately wanted to be on. She heard a moan, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized that it had come from her.
He’s my safe place, her mind told her.
With reverential kisses and tender touches, he’d smashed through her fears, taking her to a different place. His warmth was her sun; his hands the waves of the sea upon her shores. He was paradise, and she never wanted to leave.
A weak voice protested, even as she leaned in to his kisses.
No, Susan. You have to run. You have to get away.
His lips moved across her cheek to her sensitive earlobe, silencing the voice with one whisper.
“Sorcha.” The single word escaped his lips like a prayer.
Memories flooded her.
Overwhelmed her.
Suffocated her.
Their joined hands as they steered the ship. Her watching him tinkering with odd machine parts at his work bench. Loud arguments. Raw anger. Warm love. Arms made for comfort. The last year of her life had been filled with lonesomeness. Now all she felt was relief. Happiness settled into her bones.
“Ivan.”
She didn’t know how, but deep within her, she knew his name. Ivan Romanov. A strong name for a strong man.
Her man.
She felt him smile against her ear.
“I have wanted to hear you say my name for far too long,” he purred. “I’ve missed it.”
He kissed the side of her neck, the sensation making her breath hitch. The last time he’d done that had been exactly one year ago. She’d been sitting in a ship, tears clawing up her throat at the thought of leaving him. He was about to give her the pill that would suppress her memories when he asked her the question he’d asked a hundred times before. The memory snapped her out of her enchantment, and she jumped back and slapped him hard across the face.
“You liar! I am not your wife. I told you no the first hundred times you asked.”