Transcending Nirvana (Dark Evoke #3)

by V. L. Brock

  “I’m going to grab a coffee; can I get you anything, Kady?” Jessica asked from behind the welcome desk. She had a welcoming air about her that made people just relax. I know how daunting places like this can appear, so having a warming, friendly face on entry was essential.

  “No thank you, darlin’, I’m good,” I answered, sifting through the box of pamphlets and scattering them around the office.

  After Liam died, I wanted nothing more to do with him or anything he represented. I made a vow that from that point, I would begin a new chapter of my life, and that was what I did when I handed my half of Ent-Icing over to Laurie. She offered to buy me out, but I wouldn’t accept her offer for my own personal reasons.

  Instead I founded a safe-haven for other women who were or found themselves in abusive relationships, offering advice, group therapy and even counseling for those who want to break free. There’s nothing more painful than sitting with a woman who has been totally stripped down by the abuse of her partner, a woman who you don’t even have to know personally, to see that they’re a shell of the person they once were.

  In saying that, there is nothing more rewarding than seeing that same person making progress and fighting to regain her life and see the bleak, lifeless shadow in her eyes filled with optimism and self-confidence.

  The buzzer sounded behind the reception desk. That’s something I had installed when I built this place up: the buzzer system, shot proof glass and a strict no men policy was put in place.

  Pressing the release button behind the desk, the door unlocked and a woman stepped in with her head down.

  “Hi there, how can I help you?” Jessica asked before fetching her fourth cup of caffeine.

  “Is there um…is there someone I can talk to, please? I need some advice.”

  I set the pamphlets on the low wooden table just ahead of the corner couch in the brightly colored seating area, and made my way to the desk. “Hi. I’m Kady. Do you want to come through?” I asked, gesturing to one of the spare rooms.

  Her head was low, her shoulders hunched while her long dark hair concealed most of her face. She nodded and followed me inside.

  “I’m sorry about the toys, bear with me a second, let’s just pop them over here,” I picked up the train and play phone from the center table and placed them into the box in the corner. It’s heartbreaking seeing mothers having to bring their children into a place like this. But it happens. As long as they’re in a safe environment with toys to keep them occupied, the mother can speak freely. “Right, how can I help you?”

  She lifted her head, and for the first time since walking in, a pale face marred with a black eye watched me from the opposite side of the table. Each woman that had the strength to walk through my door and ask for help brought a tear to my eye, because even though they may not see it, it was an act that showed a form of acceptance in the sense of, that they knew the way they were being treated was wrong. Each woman who walked through the door with physical evidence of abuse was another lump in the throat.

  But this woman––no––this girl, who couldn’t be any older than seventeen sitting opposite me with a black eye, made those tears fall.

  “Oh, darlin’,” I whispered when her lips trembled and her own tears slipped from her lifeless eyes. She was burying her face in her hands as I rose from the tube seat and kneeled in front of her, my arms instinctively wrapping around her shoulders as she wept.

  Sometimes all it takes is a good cry before opening up.

  Releasing her from my arms, I reached back for the tissues on the table, and we both pulled one free, before I sat myself in the tube chair again. “You take your time, darlin’. There’s no rush.”

  After releasing a few sobs, she caught her breath. “I’m Anna. I’ve been with my boyfriend now since I was a freshman at high school. Everything started out amazing, he was my first. But after a while, he started to get real jealous and having problems with the people I hung out with. That’s how it started, then checking my phone and my social networking account. He um…he…” bringing the tissue to her eyes, she sobbed more.

  “Take your time, Anna. You’re doing amazing.”

  “He started getting physical a few months ago but this…”––she pointed to her black eye–– “was the first time he’d hit me in a place I can’t cover. I’m scared of what he’ll do next.”

  “Has he ever been sexually abusive towards you, Anna? Because there are counselors I have here that I can connect you with if you feel that’s something that can benefit you.”

  She welled up again and the look of defeat that she was lost to was killing me. She nodded faintly.

  “Okay.” I reached over the side of the chair and lifted a purple binder. “If it’s okay with you, Anna, I need to do what we call a risk assessment. All it is, is a few questions which I’ll ask and if you could answer. It’s kind of like those Cosmopolitan tests. Would you be okay with that?”

  We went through each question, and with each question her tears became less and less. She was slowly unburdening herself of the weighted secrecy which that kind of relationship brings. Speaking openly to a sympathetic ear and having a shoulder to cry on is therapeutic in itself. Especially when you find you’re confiding in someone who has experienced the exact same thing.

  “I’m going to ask you something that I ask all my ladies.” I shifted to the edge of the seat and cocked my head. “What was the last straw? What has made you want this change?”

  Rummaging through her pocket she handed me a sonogram photo. The most powerful connection. A mother’s instinct.

  We were walking back into the waiting area when she asked, “Can I ask you something, Kady?”

  “Of course you can.”

  She scanned the area.

  “It’s okay; in here I’m an open book.”

  Nodding, she finally asked, “What was your last straw?”

  I reflected on the last eight years of my life with a smile…something I never thought possible. “He was abusive for three years. He isolated me; he took control of my life. He hit me, made me think I was crazy, but I still justified his actions. He poured medication down my throat which led me to have a car accident. I lost the memories of those three years, and even with his chance to have a clean slate, he didn’t change. They never do.”

  “What was your strength though?”

  A familiar white pickup with G.W. Constructions painted on the side pulled up outside, and I watched as Gerry dropped from the driver’s seat. He was leaning against the door in his workman’s pants, heavy boots and plaid shirt, speaking on the phone, when I tipped my head to the large front window.

  “He was my strength. He was my rock. He made me two promises, one was to help me remember, the other,”––I spun my wedding band around my finger, a silent indication of his second promise––“He gave me my freedom and he gave me a future,” I said, softly caressing my very large, swelling pregnant belly.

  He caught me eyeing him up again, and I blushed when he winked at me. The effect he still had on me was crazy.

  How someone who lived in their own darkness for so long could be the light in someone else’s darkness, I don’t know. But that’s what he was for me. Gerald Walker was my light.

  He didn’t only guide me through the darkest years of my life, he helped me transcend them, and together, with our own little family, we finally know the true meaning of Nirvana.

  The End

  About the Author

  Raised in a creative family, witnessing one another expressing themselves through creativity, albeit musically or through a form of literature, it was only a matter of time before my passion for devising characters and their unique stories in their own world, began to form and grow. From there the seed was sown and flourished into a young girls dream.

  I am a mother of a 6 year old son who knows how to keep me on my toes in our South Wales home, self-confessed garlic freak and coffee addict. If I’m not writing or constantly thinking about writing,
then I can be found either chasing my son around, with my nose in book or being creative in the kitchen.

  In writing this series, it was my intent to not only evoke the same feelings in the reader which they would experience while watching a friend or a loved one in the same situation as Kady, but to also give an insight as to how the victim of domestic violence perceives the situation from the insiders perspective, and why is isn’t easy to just leave.

  One thing I ask of you when writing a review is to please be sensitive with how you approach the topic of domestic violence. Thousands of people live this way, with hundreds unaware that they are in fact in an abusive relationship. Abuse isn’t just physical. And while I am aware that this story will most probably be a topic of controversy, and may have had you, as the reader, frustrated, I hope that I was able to portray and demonstrate the sensitive matters in which the mistreated party is subjected to. Furthermore, I hope that it brings a deeper understanding as to why getting out of the situation isn’t as easy as saying the words, ‘Just leave him/her’.

  I read every comment, every review, message and email that I receive, so please feel free to connect with me. I have thoroughly enjoyed experimenting with my writing style, and demonstrating the different foundations which relationships are built upon. Each page and each chapter I write, I am learning more, not only about my characters, but about myself. As long as I maintain this journey, perception, astuteness and knowledge will never cease.

  I love to hear your comments about any of my works. Please feel free to connect with me on Facebook, Twitter and Goodreads or drop me a line at: Victoria.l.Brock@gmail.com

  There is a saying which I have carried with me since writing this series: ‘Place a frog in boiling water, it will jump out. Place it in simmering water and it will sit there and boil.’

  To both women and men of domestic violence. It can get better. You hold the power.

  Other books by V.L. Brock

  ~ Impulses ~

  “The day we first met, you said, ‘Before we begin’. Well, that was the beginning…it was the beginning of us.”

  After a disastrous end to a far less than perfect relationship, twenty-four year old, Samantha Kennedy has traveled the path of promiscuity in order to strive for affirmation of her desirability. Unknown to her, Samantha’s beliefs of the world of men, is about to chart a new course when she begins a new position at reputable law-firm, Wentworth and Associates, and sets her eyes on her boss, San Francisco’s tall, dark and handsome, renowned lawyer, Hayden Wentworth.

  After suffering the aftermath of his first love and having his heartbroken, thirty-one year old, Hayden Wentworth has lived the past year in black and white. Haunted by demons as a result of the torment he has endured, Hayden’s bleak world is about to be revived by his attractive new secretary, and sexual predator, Samantha Kennedy.

  Emotions that the pair long ago abandoned to save themselves any further heartache are unearthed, but should love ever be considered as a game of Russian roulette?

  If they are to come together, Samantha and Hayden must relive their pasts in order to bury them for once and for all.

  But what happens when you fall deeply and desperately in love with someone who has the traits of the one person who you strive every day to hate and resent?

  With two lives, one broken, one reckless, both hurt, Impulses, is steamy yet emotional, dark and a very deep story. Centered on varying problems which arise in relationships, Impulses shows how you can be shattered by voices of inner demons, yet saved by love, strength and persistence. Sometimes indulging in your impulses is a way to stray from your fears. Sometimes, it is the only way to face them.

  ~ Seeking Nirvana: The Dark Evoke Series (#1) ~

  ****CONTAINS AN ELEMENT OF PHYSICAL AND PSYCHOLOGICAL ABUSE, AND IS THEREFORE ONLY RECOMMENDED TO READERS OVER THE AGE OF 18****

  They say that old habits die hard, and twenty-seven year old, Kady Jenson, is about to discover how true that statement actually is.

  Waking up in the hospital with a complete stranger at her bedside should have caused panic and confusion, but for a reason unknown to her, Kady finds herself drawn and calmed by the presence of the rugged, devastatingly handsome man with the pleasant Irish brogue.

  It’s when she discovers that she has just woken from a four day coma, with a three year void in her memory, which spawns confusion and panic.

  Kady soon comes to realize that things change with time, and not only appearances.

  Not only is the sexual chemistry she once shared with her long-term boyfriend, now a long-ago memory, but Kady also begins to unconsciously fall back into unremembered habits, and with each day, the increasing sense of foreboding becomes increasingly harder to ignore.

  Left on her own when her boyfriend goes on a business trip, Kady seeks help from the Irish stranger as they go on a quest together, in a race against time, to piece the puzzle together.

  ***AUTHORS NOTE***

  This is the first installment of The Dark Evoke Series, and is therefore NOT intended as a standalone novel.

  ~ Eluding Nirvana: The Dark Evoke Series (#2) ~

  ****CONTAINS AN ELEMENT OF PHYSICAL AND PSYCHOLOGICAL ABUSE, AND IS THEREFORE ONLY RECOMMENDED TO READERS OVER THE AGE OF 18****

  Three years lost; a body marred and a mission complete.

  Waking after a four day coma, Kady Jenson felt her life was crashing down around her. Three years of her memories were missing, and the compelling man at her side was not her years-long partner, but a stranger – a stranger who promised to help her recover what she had lost.

  But how did Kady come to such a place?

  What dark, mysterious events stole her past and threatened her future?

  How did her lover become a stranger, and a stranger become so terribly important?

  What happened to turn Kady’s orderly life into a terrifying nightmare which would leave her permanently marked, body and soul?

  **AUTHORS NOTE**

  Eluding Nirvana is the second installment of The Dark Evoke Series, and is therefore not intended as a standalone novel.

  ~ Transcending Nirvana: The Dark Evoke Series (#3) ~

  ****CONTAINS AN ELEMENT OF PHYSICAL AND PSYCHOLOGICAL ABUSE, AND IS THEREFORE ONLY RECOMMENDED TO READERS OVER THE AGE OF 18****

  Con·trol:

  tr.v. con·trolled, con·trol·ling, con·trols

  Noun

  1. The power to influence or direct people's behaviour or the course of events.

  2. To hold in restraint.

  Survivor:

  sur·vive

  v. sur·vived, sur·viv·ing, sur·vives

  v.intr.

  1. To remain alive or in existence.

  2. To carry on despite hardships or trauma.

  Kady Jenson was a fighter.

  For four days, she fought through the darkness of her unconscious, and for weeks she fought for answers as to why her long-term boyfriend was more of a stranger, while she felt so connected to the Irish stranger at her hospital bedside.

  The apprehension, fear, anxiety, scars she had no memories of gaining and an unfamiliar passion which spawned each time she was in close proximity to the stranger, provided a wake-up call.

  Receiving something she secretly craved helped regain the memories of the 3 years she had lost...and nothing could prepare her for the gut-wrenching truth.

  Kady discovered she had gone from fighter to victim at the hands and manipulation of the one person she truly loved - The one person who was supposed to love and cherish her.

  Beatings, emotional cruelty and mental torture were an everyday occurrence.

  This was her life...

  Now, she's back and so are her memories. With Irish at her side to protect her and maintain any residual fight she has left, can she finally break free of Liam's hold?

  What remained left of the fighter, fought to discover that she, at the lowest point of her life, was a victim.

  Now she must continue to battle against the darkn
ess before she can call herself A SURVIVOR.

  **AUTHORS NOTE**

  Transcending Nirvana is the third and final installment of The Dark Evoke Series, and is therefore not intended as a standalone novel.

  ~ Atonement ~

  Genre: Crime, Psychological Thriller.

  Release Date: Winter 2015.

  Copyright © V.L. Brock 2015

  When journalist Lyndsey Foster found herself placed on the hardest assignment of her career, she didn’t expect her morals and beliefs to be pushed and tested.

  To accept the assignment was easy enough; to step foot inside of Texas’ notorious Mountain View Unit, and interview someone on Death Row, wasn’t as simple…

  Teena Bradford had spent years on Death Row for her crime. With only four days left to tell her version of events, painful memories and catalysts for her actions are retold, leaving both journalist and inmate asking two life altering questions:

  Should life mean life?

  And can a remorseless Tenna, in her final four days, atone for her crime?

  Atonement

  ~ A sneak peek ~

  Copyright © V.L. Brock 2015

  Prologue

  The rain was beating against his car so ferociously that he may have well been caught in the world’s most brutal hailstorm. The wipers squealed against the glass as they worked quickly to eradicate each splatter and streak distorting his vision. Thankfully, the traffic was light, although, that was to be expected with it being early hours of the morning. Three forty-five to be exact.

  When he had received the phone call, telling him the cliff notes version of what had happened, and where he was needed, he had sighed as though the call had just torn him from the deepest slumber he had had in a year. That couldn’t have been further away from fact. This was the one part of his career which never got easier. It was the one part which was often the catalyst of many, many nightmares.

  The leather steering wheel saw the brunt end of his exasperation, and with his blinded gaze resting on his thighs, he sighed a burdensome sigh, mentally preparing himself for the worst. That was another thing they had taught him at the academy: expect the worst. Still, nothing could truly prepare you for some of the horrifying sights you bear witness to in that line of duty.