by Lexie Syrah
Torn
A Dark BDSM Romance Novel
Copyright
Shattered Lives Vol 1: Torn
Copyright: Lexie Syrah
Published: October 21, 2015
Publisher: Lexie Syrah
Lexie Syrah has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work. This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the books publisher.
Lexie Syrah (October 21, 2015). Shattered Lives Vol 1: Torn
All Characters in this Book are over the age of 18.
This book contains strong sexual content
Dedication
I would like to take this moment to give a special thank you to an amazing group of friends of mine known as the Naughty Nymphets from Mrblackthorne.com. Thank you for all of the support and friendship I have received from you, Ladies!
I would like to give an epic thank you to Jenny Foshia for all the extra hours she has stayed up with me in the course of writing this novel. You picked me up when I was at my lowest and brought light back into my heart. Thank you!
Table of Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
More Books for Your Pleasures!
Thank you for reading!
Part One: Threshold
Prologue
“She was a young thing, a child really, full of hope and light, whose only friends were the shadows on the walls. Others would have found the darkness that she traversed lacking in shadows, but she exuded an unearthly radiance, lighting the world with every step and bringing life to the shadows that lived only in the twilight between worlds. It was here that her friends came out to play and fed her soul with their love of her joy and the light she bore. For without light, there could be no shadows.”
“He, a man living in the light, found nothing in the darkness, though his eyes scoured it constantly for a kindred spirit. Always, he searched the void for someone to cling to, some kind of anchor for his soul. For he walked in the light only with the help of a mask to hide behind. Under it hid an ethereal animal, primal in its needs and desires, which could not stand the light of day. If only there was one who could give him light without destroying the darkness that filled him so that he could finally be free.”
Chapter 1
My stomach grumbled, and I swore that I could hear it echoing against the graffiti covered bricks that rose up from the alley floor. A drop of sweat fell to the trash-ridden concrete at my feet. The afternoon sun blazed even in the shadows of the buildings that surrounded me, and I looked down at the dented metal trashcan that promised very little in the way of edible scraps. A bottle of water would have been nice, but I’d have to find something to quench my thirst elsewhere.
How did I go from being a beautiful sorority girl with the world at her fingertips to a homeless girl scrounging through restaurant garbage cans? The question had haunted my thoughts for months, but the answer was simple. I’d taken my life for granted.
The trash can stunk of old beer and rotten food. I knew that if I got anything out of it, I’d be risking food poisoning. I shook my head as my hungry belly grumbled again, but there was nothing for me to do about it. I hated being in this area. I’d left my comfort zone in the business district after reports of women being raped and brutalized started to surface. Months ago, I would have felt pity for them, but now I was just pissed that I would have to find a new alley to sleep in, another corner to panhandle, and another source of consistent free food and cleaner trash cans. I kicked the dumpster, and the sound echoed down the alleyway.
It was frustrating, but I’d gotten used to the animal world that I’d become a part of. People without homes didn’t get very much attention, even if they were raped or killed. We lived in a second dimension alongside the normal world. Our actions were only noticed if they affected the regular people, and our needs were taken care of only if it helped someone from the real world. The cops ignored us just as much as the rest of the population did. People were raped, beaten, and even worse on a regular basis, but no one ever stepped in to do something, so the only answer was to move along.
I hadn’t had time to panhandle today with all of the bus jumping, and my stomach felt like it was trying to devour itself. Hopefully, my newly chosen area on the south side of town would be a better place, and I could stop eating out of restaurant garbage cans and start buying some of it.
I might even be able to get a nice warm jacket this winter. It was Texas, but the nights when the rain and sleet would blow in from the north would fill your very bones with an unshakable cold. People would have recommended shelters, but the shelters always filled up so fast and were even more dangerous than the streets. There was nowhere to hide inside of a building.
I turned around to go back to the bus stop, and a sudden gust of wind blew through the alley. A swirl of dust and dirt picked up from the shadows that fell over everything in this grungy corner of the world. The dancing movement was hypnotizing. The sand and grit had rested long enough to have drifted into obscurity. But fate had different plans, and this gust of wind had lifted them and turned their obscure and unknown existence into a chaotic tempest of action that could not be ignored.
Within seconds, the whirlwind pelted my face with its minuscule debris. It was just another bit of dust on an already grime-covered face. When I opened my eyes again, a well-dressed older man stood in my path. I lowered my head and tried to become the invisible animal that people ignored. There was only a single reason that a man dressed as well as this one would cross into my dimension: sex.
People assumed that just because I was homeless and covered in rags, I would fuck anyone for a little food. Or even worse, they understood that no one would care if they raped me, and the authorities certainly wouldn’t believe the word of a homeless vagrant over an upstanding and tax-paying member of society. Nothing good would come of any interaction with a well-dressed man in an alley.
“Miss, would you like a bite to eat?”
His powerful and crystal clear voice carried across the 20 feet of alley as though it were only inches. I picked my head up and looked at the older gentleman who’d spoken to me.
“Thank you for offering, but I’m fine,” I shouted back at him.
It was never a good idea to trust anyone in my world. The fact that he was older and well-dressed meant very little to his temperament and hidden desires. Yes, there was the occasional charitable soul, but they were few in comparison to the hundreds of men and women who saw me as an easy target. Even if it was in public, there was always some string attached to an offer from someone in the normal world.
I tossed the lid back onto the trashcan that had held no hidden treasure for me and walked toward the man, my
hunger forced to the back of my mind due to the present danger. He was still on the street, and I didn’t want him to walk further into the alleyway and corner me. I knew that no one would come to my rescue if he decided to hurt me while he was in the shadows, so I needed to get out of there quickly.
My eyes never left his face, and I tried to show as much strength and courage as possible. A scared rabbit was easy game for a predator, and this man had to understand that I was not afraid to fight if it came to it.
His eyes hadn’t left mine either, and for a moment, sadness swept over his face. I was only a few feet from him when he said, “I understand if you don’t want to eat with me, but you’re hungry. I’m going to leave twenty dollars here so you can get a warm meal. I know that it’s not easy being hungry, and everyone deserves a nice burger or steak once in a while.”
He got out his wallet and pulled out a bill. He bent over gracefully, placed the bill on the ground, and set a small rock on top of it before standing up and walking away. I ran to the bill and picked it up. Twenty dollars would buy multiple days’ worth of food for me, and though a steak would have been amazing, I knew that I needed to ration the money.
I walked out from the alleyway with much more than the uneaten chicken tenders that I’d hoped for and watched the Good Samaritan walking down the street. He hadn’t been a predator. He didn’t seem to be someone who would help the homeless, but for some reason, he’d decided to stop and force his money on me. Maybe he had known the pain of hunger at some point in his life. It would be nice to have someone to talk to for once. What was the worst he could do in a public place?
“Sir!” I called as I ran down the sidewalk to him. He turned around and asked, “Yes?” with a soft smile and gleam in his eye.
“Actually, if you still wouldn’t mind being seen with me, I’d love to join you for lunch. Where were you planning to go?”
I hadn’t offered to give the money back, and I knew that he hadn’t expected me to. I needed the money more than he did, and I wasn’t going to give up four to five hot meals in exchange for a conversation.
“I’d love to eat with you. How about we go to a diner down the street?”
His smile drew my eyes constantly. It was a liar’s smile, but I didn’t think he was lying to me right now. When you live on the streets, you learn to see people for who they really are instead of what they show you. If you don’t, you end up getting hurt.
As I followed him down the street, I looked more closely at the man who’d decided to take pity on a hungry girl covered in a holy University of Texas shirt and jeans that were more brown and gray than blue. I remembered my days at the sorority. I’d seen plenty of dress shirts and suits, but they’d been cheap versions of this man’s. His shirt was made of silk; you could tell because it had a slight shine that the cotton and polyester ones couldn’t match.
The pants were pressed and unremarkable, but his shoes told me more about him than anything else. Shoes are the ultimate truth-teller for a man’s prosperity. Anyone with just a little bit of money could buy cheap off-brand dress shoes that would work with their cotton shirt and pants, but these were not off-brand shoes. The stitching was impeccable. The brown leather was scuff-less, and there wasn’t a bit of dust on them.
More than anything, though, he was comfortable in them. He walked with a grace that would only come from wearing similar shoes day in and day out. These were not something he wore on special occasions; they were his everyday shoes, and they must have cost around five hundred dollars.
He had money, or at least he had decided to spend what money he had on his attire. He didn’t seem to be a man that would spend his last dime on a pair of dress shoes, though. Everything about this man screamed danger to my animal instincts, but for this single moment, I almost felt like I’d crossed into the normal world and was a human again. Those animal instincts didn’t have the same effect on my more human mind.
Cars rushed by us, and people brushed against us. People glanced at me as they passed us, and though I could sense their confusion, it felt good to be seen again. I knew it wouldn’t last, so I tried not to get used to it. Tonight, I’d be huddled in the corner of an alley in hopes that it didn’t rain. I’d be peeing on the ground on the other side of the alley. I would be just another invisible creature in the concrete jungle in which I lived. People would only see me if they wished to hurt me or wanted something from me.
The man turned to a small café and opened the door for me like a gentleman. For now, I would be a human and enjoy, even though it would only be for a moment, the life that I used to take for granted. A hostess greeted us and sat us near a window. I couldn’t help but feel the way that she made sure not to come into contact with me. I hadn’t been ashamed of my appearance or smell for many months, but now I was overwhelmingly self-conscious of how out of place I was. This wasn’t my world, and I was shaming the man who had been kind enough to bring me, as a guest, back into it.
When we sat down, and the hostess left, the man said, “Let me introduce myself. I’m Brian Sheffield.”
“I’m Maggie. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Sheffield.”
I was still leery of someone who had seen into my world without a good reason, but this man seemed to be a genuinely good person. Maybe he’d known someone who’d been homeless and through that person’s experiences, had a connection to my world.
A man who looked like the manager came to our table and addressed Mr. Sheffield. His pot-belly rested right beside my face, and I couldn’t help but be disgusted by him. He was a weasel of a man, and my instincts told me to crush him if I ever had the chance. I could feel the contempt for me that radiated from him as he consciously ignored my presence.
“Sir, your guest cannot eat here. She’s… she hasn’t bathed, and the smell will upset the other customers. I’m sorry, but I will have to ask you to leave.”
That’s when I saw a fire kindle in Mr. Sheffield’s eyes for the first time. He could have faked pleasantness or sweetness. He could have acted many different ways, but this fire was impossible to fake as it shown from the very center of him. He gave the manager a twisted smile. I would later learn that this was not a smile that you would ever wish to be on the receiving end of.
“I understand your concern,” he looked at the manager’s name tag, “Mark. The problem is that Maggie is a person who is hungry. Much hungrier than you have ever been. If you wish us to leave, I have no problem doing so, but I’ll have to make a phone call first. A friend of mine is the editor-in-chief of the local news station. I’m sure that she would love to run a piece about how your restaurant refuses to allow hungry people to eat if they are misfortunate enough to be homeless.”
Mark the manager chuckled at Mr. Sheffield’s threat and said, “Okay. You go ahead and call whoever you feel like you need to call, but you’re still going to have to leave.” He hadn’t believed a word that Mr. Sheffield had said, but I’d seen the truth in those words. I realized now that I’d been wrong about his smile. It wasn’t a liar’s smile. It was manipulative. Mr. Sheffield was not a man that lied. Instead, he was a man that would laugh and chat with you even as you walked into the hunter’s trap that he’d laid.
He pulled out his phone and scrolled through it before showing the manager a contact screen. Immediately, Mark began apologizing, “Sir, I’m so sorry for everything. You don’t have to call anyone, and your friend can eat here anytime. Why don’t you two just enjoy a meal on me today?” Beads of sweat dripped from his fat face and splashed onto his black cotton polo shirt.
“That would be fine, Mark. I’ll take a grilled chicken salad, and Maggie will take the largest steak that you have. Oh, and we’d both enjoy some sweet tea. It’s so hot outside today.”
Mark rushed off to get our food made, and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the way that Mr. Sheffield had handled him. I liked this man and his quick mind. So calm, and yet so full of fire at the same time.
“I’m sorry about that, Maggie. Hopefully,
that will be the end of that.” He may have been calm to the manager, but his Cheshire Cat grin told me that he had enjoyed the trap just as much as I had.
“I would hope so! I think you scared him enough to be sure that he doesn’t come back until we leave. Would you really have called your friend?” The thought of someone doing a story about a homeless person being refused service seemed like an impossibility. People refused to serve me all the time, and I’d understood. I knew I stunk.
“It would have been a great story, and I may still give Ruth a call about it.” He turned to look out the window thoughtfully as we waited for our food. I couldn’t get the look of Mark’s face out of my mind. I thought about it for a moment, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed like that.
“Maggie, I have a question for you, and I won’t be upset if you turn me down. Would you be interested in a job?” I raised my eyebrows at the question. A job? He was buying me food, and now he was offering me a job? The leery feeling that had mostly dissipated came back with full force.
“Why would you want to give me a job, Mr. Sheffield?” Every instinct said to run, but he’d done nothing to earn my mistrust and everything to earn my trust, so I stayed to hear his reply.