by Bry Ann
SAVING HER
Dedication:
To everyone touched by cancer. I’m sorry you ever had to receive that news that hits you like a dagger to the heart.
To everyone who has lost a loved one. It’s an unfixable, irreplaceable pain. I’m so sorry.
To kidnapping survivors. I can’t put into words how sorry I am that somebody stole your sense of safety. Your piece of mind.
Healing is possible. You are stronger than you will ever know.
Table Of Contents
SAVING HER
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:
Chapter 20:
Chapter 21:
Chapter 22:
Epilogue:
SAVING HIM
Present Day: Chapter 1:
Dana - 13 Years Old:
Present Day: Chapter 2:
Present Day: Chapter 3:
Dana-15 years old:
Dana- 15 Years Old:
Present Day: Chapter 4:
Dana- 21 Years Old:
Present Day: Chapter 5:
Dana- 22 Years Old:
Present Day: Chapter 6:
Present Day: Chapter 7:
Dana- 22 Years Old:
Present Day: Chapter 7- Gunner:
Present Day: Chapter 8:
Dana- 22 Years Old:
Present Day: Chapter 9:
Present Day: Chapter 10:
Dana- 26 Years Old:
Present day: Chapter 11:
Dana- 26 Years Old:
Present Day: Chapter 12:
Dana- 26 Years Old:
Present Day: Chapter 13:
Present Day: Chapter 14:
Present Day: Chapter 15:
Present Day: Chapter 16:
Present Day: Chapter 17:
Present Day: Chapter 18:
Epilogue (Sam):
SAVING THEM
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:
Chapter 20:
Chapter 21:
Chapter 22:
Chapter 23:
Chapter 24:
Chapter 25:
Chapter 26:
Chapter 27:
Chapter 28:
Chapter 29:
Chapter 30:
Chapter 31 (Rex):
BONUS SCENE: Chapter 32 (Gunner):
SAFE:
Prologue (Gunner):
Chapter One (Alexa):
Chapter 2 ( Rex):
Chapter 3 (Gunner):
Chapter 4 (Sam):
Chapter 5 (Alex):
Chapter 6 (Gunner):
Chapter 7 (Rex):
Chapter 8 (Sam):
Chapter 9 (Alex):
Chapter 10 (Dana):
Chapter 11 (Gunner):
Chapter 12 (Alex):
Chapter 13 (Pytor):
Chapter 15 (Gunner):
Chapter 16 (Sam):
Chapter 17 (Alex):
Chapter 18 (Dana):
Chapter 19 (Rex):
Chapter 20 (Dana):
Chapter 21 (Alex):
Chapter 22 (Rex):
Chapter 23 (Logan):
Chapter 24 (Sam):
Chapter 25 (Logan):
Epilogue (Alex):
Acknowledgments
Other Books By Bry Ann
Author Notes
Saving Her
Copyright © 2017 by Bry Ann
This book is a work of fiction, the characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
ISBN – 978-0-9995318-1-5
Chapter 1:
As usual, Twitter was on fire.
“Logan Prescott has just signed a multi-million dollar recording contract. The man is on fire! He has just finished filming two movies and the final season of his hit television show just aired. Looking forward to your album Logan!”
“Racheal Ryans walks offset in an apparent feud with co-star Luke Adams!”
“Raquel Stevens dumps girlfriend Lila Taylor. Stay strong girl!”
“Logan Prescott announces he’s taking a break before going to work on his upcoming album.”
I slammed my phone shut and rolled my eyes. Why my social media page was always filled with this crap was beyond me. For some reason, I still insisted on checking it every single damn morning.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
Grumbling I rolled over, shut it off, and then lightly slapped my cheeks to wake myself up. A cold glass of water. A cold glass of water is all I need to wake up. But I knew it wouldn’t help, not really. After working 10-12 hour shifts almost every single day since graduating high school, sleep seemed to be a permanent luxury I couldn’t afford.
Besides, I needed to find some way to raise $158,000 for an experimental treatment needed to save my mom. My mom, actually adoptive mother, took me in when I was six years old. Nothing existed before her. All I know is she took me in when I had nowhere else to go and loved me with every fiber of her being. She became my one and only companion in this world. When I was seven, mom was diagnosed with skin cancer and it progressed to stage four lung cancer over time. It’s been an ongoing battle which has only gotten worse. The first several years were fine because she could work, and it didn’t seem that serious, but as I hit my teen years mom started having to take short-term disability and then long-term disability and then had to stop working altogether as chemo took a toll on her body. I started working after school to keep a roof over our head and to pay for the parts of my mom’s treatments that insurance wouldn’t cover. I was able to get a job at a local tattoo shop when I was thirteen. The owner said I could help run the desk and he’d pay me off the books until I was fourteen and could legally work. An average kid until my mom got sick, I started spending most of my time with adults; doctors, customers, employers. I stopped making friends. Trust went away. I got along with people and could keep up appearances, but I was a loner, always had been really.
Whatever. That’s life. Right? Besides, life has taught me a few tricks.
For instance, I worked at the tattoo shop for six years, and somehow managed only ever to get one small tat…despite being tempted many times to get more. I learned sass at that job. It was the only way I knew how to fend off assholes and deal with bitchy women and pervy men all day long. Mom worried about me working there. She wanted me to soften up, let people in more, but I never could.
At nineteen, I finally traded that job to be a server at a local restaurant known for its south
ern cooking. I live in Nashville after all. The restaurant was all wooden with a southern flare. I hated working there. I hated dealing with people all day, and I hated having my asshole boss on my back 24/7. However, they paid well…really well. Better than most of my friends in college were getting paid. Plus, and the real seller for me was my mom and I got the best health insurance around. It covered almost all her treatments and allowed me to continue paying rent.
So that’s my story. My name is name Samantha Perkins, call me Sam. I'm as boring as they come in every way. I have drab brown hair, an average body, I wear t-shirts, jeans and converse every day and am constantly exhausted from working and taking care of my mom. The only part of me that is somewhat decent are my hazel eyes. That’s one thing I get to thank my real parents, my unique eye color.
Nice to meet you.
I arrived late to work that morning. My mom threw up and missed the toilet, so I helped her and then rushed out the door, trying to suppress the pain of seeing my mom so sick again. I got to work with my bag slung over my shoulder, my hair in my face and my glasses still on. My contacts were in my bag.
“Sam!” Shauna, one of my more friendly co-workers yelled. “What the heck?! You are so late! You have tables. Get your shit together and get back out here before Matt sees.”
Matt’s my boss. The one I hate.
“I’ll hurry!” I yelled back to Shauna.
I rushed to the restroom, threw on my contacts, put my hair up and ran back out on the floor. I looked like shit, but our t-shirts were hideous too, so I guess I was going with a theme.
Once I finally I got out on the floor I did my thing for several hours. We were busy. Not slammed, but busy enough to where each server had to focus on their section, and there was no socializing. I stood by the bar, grabbing a sip of water when Shauna came running over to me.
“Sam! Oh my gosh, look who’s in your section! Holy freaking crap. I can’t believe this is happening.”
I glanced over at our corner table, which was our biggest and most private table by far. It had a curtain wrapped around so it was blocked off but still left enough room for the server. I had been distracted earlier and not paying attention. When I looked over, I saw a young blonde guy, two large buff men next to him and a man in his mid-forties.
“All I see is a whole lot of complaining in my future,” I said.
“No Sam. Look.” Shauna grabbed my face and turned it in the direction of their table again.
I took a second glance, and for a second I was annoyed with her, but when I took a harder look at the blonde headed guy, I realized he did look familiar. Oh shit.
Logan Prescott, the dude I kept hearing about in the papers.
Fuck me; I did not want to deal with celebrities.
I groaned and looked back at Shauna, “You take the table, please. Dear God, I can’t deal with this right now.”
Shauna looked at me completely floored. “I’d love to take that table babe. Honestly, this kills me, but we are slammed, and Matt just got on us about staying in our sections. He threatened termination. I can’t lose this job right now. Sorry, Sam. Guess you’re gonna have to attempt friendliness for our hot premier customer.”
Shauna walked away, and I sighed. Looking over at the table one more time, I realized this could be a good opportunity for tips. Despite how much I can’t stand people like him I had to try and be friendly for the rent money the Good Lord knew I needed. I walked over to the table grimly and planted a very bad fake smile on my face.
Heaven help me.
“Hello, I’m Sam. I’ll be your server today,” I said a little shaken by being directly in front of the most famous man in the world and his bodyguards. I hid it well though because I hated so much that I was affected by him at all.
They continued talking despite my introduction.
“Um, Can I get you anything to drink?” I said with more force.
They still ignored me and continued talking. Fire built in my stomach. I stormed off to the kitchen and grabbed four glasses of water that I slammed on the table, getting everyone’s abrupt attention.
“Can I get you anything else to drink?!” I snapped.
The man who is in his forties looked pissed, the bodyguards looked unaffected, and Logan looked downright amused.
“What’s your name?” the older man asked.
“Sam.”
“Well Sam, I first want to tell you we’d prefer if this table remain private. We do not want to draw attention to this area….if you catch my drift.”
“Yeah, that’s what the curtains for,” I said, raising my eyebrows and gesturing dramatically.
The man glared at me, and Logan laughed. It’s the first time I had an opportunity to take a good look at him. I hated to admit it, but the man was freaking gorgeous. With shaggy dirty blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, some light freckles and thick, defined muscles that bulged through with every move he made, I already hated him.
“Drinks?” I asked, again trying to reign in my temper.
They all ordered some alcohol, except Logan who stuck with his water but requested, and I quote, “two lemons and a half cup of ice.”
I bought all their drinks, and condiments, to the table and turned to leave when a deep voice got my attention.
“Wait, I have a question.”
“Yes?” I said turning around slowly on my heel.
“Is the chicken grass-fed and organic?”
I looked at him and his piercing blue eyes dumbstruck.
“Uh no,” I said, suppressing the urge to say something else sarcastic. “It’s just normal chicken.”
“Oh damn. Guess my trainer will just have to live with it for today.”
“Guess so,” I said with an eye roll.
“You’re kind of a bitch aren’t you?” he said after a brief pause.
If I had water in my mouth, I would have to spit it out.
“Excuse me?!”
“Nothing personal you just seem bitchy.”
Appalled, I looked over at the older man who wasn’t even paying attention to me, but I noticed the two bodyguards looked slightly shocked by his bluntness. I glanced back over at Logan who raised his eyebrows in anticipation of my answer. Fine. He wanted an answer from me; he’d get one.
“Yes, I am and don’t forget it!”
I stormed off to the back, slamming the kitchen door behind me.
The rest of their meal I didn’t say a word that was outside of the typical waitress script. I didn’t want to risk having to engage in any more conversation with any of them, particularly Logan Prescott. Finally, they got up to go, and I walked over to their table to see what kind of tip I got, not expecting much, if anything. I knew I didn’t handle myself well. The word ‘bitchy’ didn’t even begin to describe how I was to Logan and his staff.
When I opened the black flaps, several hundred-dollar bills came falling out. My jaw dropped. I couldn’t accept that. I stuffed the bills in my apron and ran to the back of the restaurant where Logan was leaving.
“Excuse me,” I called out to them, somewhat quietly so I didn’t draw attention to myself.
As soon as I got close to them the two bodyguards stood in front of Logan, blocking him from view. I was admittedly a little intimidated and decided to take two steps back. I was about to walk away when I heard Logan’s deep voice telling his guards “he’d speak with me.” They moved aside slightly to let me in but blocked him from the view of the rest of the restaurant. His stare was both intense and amused.
“Yes?”
“Um, I...” I began to feel embarrassed about the whole situation and could feel my cheeks turning red.
Why was he so attractive? It was freaking distracting. Human biology could be extremely annoying sometimes.
“I can’t accept this,” I said quietly, handing him back the hundreds, “It’s too much.”
He looked highly amused now.
“Really? You give me all this shit and then return the money I give you for h
aving to deal with how much you apparently hate me,” he said with a laugh.
“It’s just too much to accept. Please, just take it back.” I held it out to him. “I can take care of myself.”
For a long moment, he stared at me. His brows creased slightly. Shaking his head, he took the money from my outstretched hand. They all started to walk out, but Logan turned back towards me.
“I don’t doubt it.”
Chapter 2:
Question after question was hurled towards me. Everyone wanted to know what it was like to talk to Logan Prescott. I hoped this wasn’t going to last for the rest of my shift. What I wanted to tell people was ‘yeah, you want to know what he’s like? An ass.’
But I went with the signature “he’s just a normal guy.” People wanted to keep pestering me, but luckily my standoff was enough to get them to stop. The only person I talked to about it was Shauna because she had always been so genuinely nice to me, even when I didn’t return the favor. The least I could do was feed her little Hollywood mind about my interaction with Hollywood’s it boy. When I finished telling Shauna my interaction with the great Logan Prescott, she looked at me like I was from a different planet.
“You don’t care, do you? About him.”
“No, I don’t. Sorry to disappoint.”
She shut up after that. I headed home from work around 10:30 that night and checked on my mom before going to my room to write. I loved to journal. It was a place for me to vent and say whatever I wanted without consequence. It wasn’t hard to figure out what most of today’s ranting would be about. I didn’t mention one word about today’s events to my mom. Looking at her, I knew Mom was in pain and didn’t need to hear my negative attitude. She’d thrown up a lot, so I pulled out some soup I’d premade the night before to give to her. She didn’t want it, but I begged her to try to eat some, so she had a few bites. After snuggling with her for a while, I went to my room, got undressed and wrote a bit more. I fell asleep with my journal on the floor and my body sprawled out on the side of my bed.
My alarm went off the next morning, and I dragged myself out of bed once again. I was reaching a point of exhaustion I wasn’t sure I’d ever been able to come back from, but numbers kept me focused. $98,769 to go. After that, I planned to cut back on some of my hours. Shauna knew my situation and was the one who encouraged me to cut back my hours after I’d earned money. I agreed, but I also knew I was at least a solid year away from saving that kind of money. The reason I told Shauna about my mom was because she covered for me sometimes when I was running late.