Snared
Copyright © LL Collins 2016
All Rights Reserved
ISBN13: 978–1530294152
Cover Design by:
Marisa Shor at Cover Me, Darling
www.covermedarling.com
Interior Design and Formatting by:
Christine Borgford, Perfectly Publishable
www.perfectlypublishable.com
Photography by Darren Birks
www.darrenbirksphotography.com
Models: Mike Dolbeare and Joanna Warner
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Contact Author LL Collins
www.llcollinsauthor.com
[email protected]
Table of Contents
Snared
Dedication
AUTHOR NOTE
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Books by L.L. Collins
About the Author
Playlist for SNARED: A Jaded Regret Novel
To anyone who has ever struggled with mental illness. It may be an invisible illness, but you aren’t invisible and don’t suffer alone. You are beautifully and wonderfully made, and your life has purpose.
AUTHOR NOTE
This book contains adult content and language. It also contains topics that could be difficult for some readers, including but not limited to mental illness, mental abuse, and suicide. Please take these sensitive topics into consideration before choosing to read this book. Also, be ready. Beau may wiggle his way into your heart and won’t let go. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
~Author L.L. Collins
Beau ~ Age 5
I ZOOMED MY cars down the long hallway, loving the way the tires sounded on the wood floor. I glanced back to see where my mom was; she didn’t like it when I pushed too hard. I didn’t hear her in the kitchen or see her in the living room, so I was safe. “You’ll put scratches in the wood, Beau Oliver. Be gentle or don’t play,” she’d always say to me.
I used all my strength to see how fast I could get my favorite car to go. It was a red Camaro. I knew that because my daddy taught me all about cars, just like he’d taught me all about drums. I loved playing drums with him. Mommy said he was very talented and I was a lot like him. That made me feel proud because my daddy was awesome. When he was happy, he was so much fun. But right now, he was sick. To Natalie and me, sick meant that Daddy had to be left alone. He didn’t get sick like we did with a fever or a tummy ache. He got the kind of sick that meant he sometimes went away for a few days, or he had to stay in his bed. Sometimes we heard him crying, other times we heard him yelling. Our mom would always have red rings around her eyes like she’d been crying, but she’d never admit to it. She would say she was tired from taking care of Daddy. I didn’t get it, but then again, most things adults talked about I didn’t get. Like my teacher, Ms. Hamilton, trying to teach me how to read. So confusing. Who could understand that all of those letters together made words? Kindergarten was hard work.
My favorite car hit my parents’ bedroom door just a little too hard, and I gasped at the loud sound. My insides felt like ice as I waited for someone to yell at me. Where was Natalie? She was always mothering me, too, even though she was only two years older than me. She always let me sleep with her when I was scared, though, so I couldn’t be too mad.
The car had pushed the door open a little bit. It must not have been shut all the way. I reached my hand through the small crack and yanked the car back into the hallway. My hand hit the door and pushed it open farther. I held my breath, waiting. The room was dark, and I didn’t hear anything. Maybe Daddy wasn’t in here anymore. Mommy had told us that Daddy was resting and to leave him alone.
I stood, my heart thumping so loud in my chest I swore it was going to explode. I had just reached out for the door handle to shut it so I wouldn’t get in trouble when I saw Daddy. He seemed like he was swinging on a homemade swing. Except it was around his neck. He was hanging from the closet door. His eyes didn’t see me. His arms didn’t reach out to me. His mouth didn’t move. His feet dangled in the air. A piece of paper with a lot of letters laid at his feet. I knew all my letters, but I knew I’d never be able to read what it said. Daddy had bad handwriting.
My hand was frozen on the door handle. My mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. I needed Natalie. Or Mommy. Or both. Daddy was stuck and needed help. He was too still, though. Someone needed to help him down so he could smile at me again.
And that was when I started to scream at the top of my lungs, my head understanding what my heart wouldn’t accept.
Beau ~ Age 12
I fought as the guys in white held me down. My head thrashed and my legs kicked, but nothing kept them from injecting me with the needle they’d been holding. My vision blurred as the drugs coursed through my veins. I couldn’t remember what had gotten me here, but I knew I didn’t belong here.
“Let me fucking GO! There’s nothing wrong with me!” I slurred, hating that it now seemed like the two of them had turned into four. I lifted my hand to try to get away, but it was too heavy to budge.
You’re a fucking monster, just like him, the voices screamed in my head. You deserve this. To be locked up like the animal you are. What did you think, that you were going to have a psycho’s blood running through you and not become just like him? You deserve to die. I hate you. I can’t even stand looking at you.
I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, fighting against the black hole that threatened to suck me down into its abyss.
A blurry face appeared before me. It was my mother. Her beady eyes narrowed. I tried to fight against the restraints, but it was futile. I couldn’t move. Maybe she could finish the job and put me out of my misery. I hated my life, anyway.
“You should’ve died with him. You’re a monster, Beau. You’re a piece of shit, just like your father. You’re dead to me. You and your worthless sister can have a nice life. If you aren’t too fucking crazy, that is.” Her voice was just low enough for me to hear, because I knew she wouldn’t let anyone else hear the words she spoke. Not even Natalie knew how vicious she was to me.
Just as her figure moved away from my bed, I lost the battle with consciousness. The voices subsided from my head, and I succumbed to the relief of blackness.
I was twelve years old.
My mother hated me.
And now I was locked up in a mental institution.
Beau ~ Age 18
“I LIKE YOU,” Robyn whispered against my lips. I was frozen, my heart hammering so hard I swore it was going to come out of my chest. My hands clenched into fists,
not knowing what I was supposed to do with them.
“W-why?” I’d never kissed a girl before. I’d never let another girl get close enough to even try. Robyn worked with me at the fast food restaurant where I was a cook, and we’d become friends. Well, as much of a friend as I let anyone be. My only friends in the world were Natalie, my sister, and Bex, my foster sister. We lived together in a shitty trailer in an even crappier neighborhood, but it was ours, and we didn’t have to fear anyone would do anything to us inside our walls. It was home. None of our neighbors cared that we wailed on our instruments into the wee hours of the night. We stayed out of their business, and they stayed out of ours. Bex swore we were going to make it someday—out of that trailer park and doing what we loved. I wasn’t sure I believed it, but I never told her that.
I’d lived for the last six years hiding inside my head to shelter myself from letting anyone get close. Hell, my mother hadn’t wanted me, so why would anyone else?
Robyn was hot. It wasn’t that I didn’t have desires, I just refused to act on any of them. If I never opened up, I’d never get hurt. That was easy enough. But Robyn never cared that I hardly spoke or that I refused most of her invitations to go out and do something together. I guessed I was good looking enough. I had dark hair and dark eyes, and I liked to work out—though my body wasn’t anything spectacular. I wanted tattoos and piercings, but that wasn’t in the budget yet. Someday I’d make enough money to do more than feed myself.
This time, she’d convinced me to go to the theater to see a total guy movie. I knew she didn’t care about seeing it, but she’d wanted me to go out with her. Natalie had been shocked when I’d told her I was going with Robyn, but then got all misty-eyed and said she was proud of me. She was twenty years old but acted like she was my mother. I guess she had been for a long time.
“Because you aren’t like most guys,” Robyn said. “You don’t come onto me and try to get into my pants. You’re quiet, shy, and respectful. Girls like that, you know.”
No, I didn’t know. My throat was dry as her breath wafted over my lips. I could smell her perfume or shampoo or something. If I moved just a little, we’d be kissing. For the first time, I wanted to kiss someone. I wanted to do more than kissing. My dick stirred. It wasn’t like I was a prude or anything. My hand got plenty of exercise.
“I scare you, don’t I?” Robyn said. The movie was playing, and I could hear guns shooting and see the flicker of action across Robyn’s face, but I didn’t care. The theater was almost empty, and we were at the top of the rows, alone. I wanted to do things with her. Things I’d never done before.
“Yes,” I admitted.
“Why?”
I shrugged. How could I tell her the truth? Thankfully, she didn’t make me answer, because before I could try to come up with a response, she pressed her full lips to mine, absorbing the gasp that involuntarily came out of my mouth. Her warm tongue danced along the seam of my lips, and I found myself opening up, groaning as she made me come alive. I put my hands on either side of her face and pulled her closer, sucking her tongue into my mouth like I knew what I was doing. She moved the armrest in between us and moved closer, her body pressing into mine. She was good at this. Not that I’d know the difference, but it sure seemed like she was. Did she know I’d never kissed anyone before? Did I suck at this? She didn’t appear to mind, so I kept going.
My dick was fully awake and active now, pressing painfully against my pants. What the hell was I doing? When her hand traveled down my abs and to the button on my pants, I stiffened. She noticed and pulled back, her eyes finding mine in the darkness of the theater.
“Do you want me?”
What the hell kind of question was that? My body wanted her, yes, but my mind was running away. How could I tell her I’d never done this before? “I . . .”
“Let’s get out of here. My roommate isn’t home. I want to show you something.”
Show me something? I followed her out of the theater; her fingers entwined with mine. I examined our hands, her small one in mine, and I wondered if this was what it was supposed to feel like. Attraction. Lust.
I rolled over and opened my eyes, squinting as I took in the surroundings. Where the hell was I? My mind reeled, the pieces starting to click together from last night when I felt movement next to me.
I’d never woken up next to someone before. Hell, I’d never had sex with anyone before. Wait. That wasn’t true anymore. I’d fucked Robyn. Several times, in fact. After I’d blown like the novice first-timer I was within thirty seconds of seeing her naked, I’d summoned him back to life several other times and Robyn had blown my mind. Literally. That girl was . . . good. I knew the way she wrapped her mouth around me and brought me to the edge and then sank herself on top of me that it wasn’t her first rodeo.
She hadn’t cared that it had, in fact, been mine. She’d been patient and taught me a lot. By the time we passed out, I had thought I might never be the same again.
“Someone is awake,” Robyn purred, her hand finding my rock hard wood. My eyes rolled at her touch. This is what I’ve been missing all these years. Before I could realize what she was doing, she flung the sheet back and took me entirely into her mouth, sucking me so hard I swore I’d shoot in her mouth before we even got started.
“Mmmm,” she murmured. I gripped her hair, guiding her as my hips flexed involuntarily. She was naked, her breasts brushing against me as she moved. I’d never touched a woman until last night, but holy fuck was it amazing. I ran my fingers along her smooth back and down to her ass. She squirmed as I reached between her legs and touched her, sliding two fingers into her wetness. She groaned against my dick, apparently liking what I was doing. Who knew I could please her?
I knew I was going to come soon and wanted to do it while inside her. I lifted her head gently, and she got the hint. “Do you . . . like it from behind?” The only time I’d ever seen this was in porn, but I’d always wanted to try it.
She grinned, turning her body so she was on all fours. I’d take that as a yes. She looked back at me, watching as I guided myself into her wet entrance. “Oh, Beauuuu,” she said, making my name several syllables. “You sure you’ve never done this before? Because, hell, you’re awesome.” There was no more talking as we both chased our release.
After I had spilled myself into her again, I cleaned up and kissed her swiftly, needing to head to work. She was off today, so I thought maybe she’d want to see me again. I was hooked on her in just this short time. I needed to be inside her, kiss her, lay with her. It was a feeling I’d never had before, but I liked it.
Robyn kissed me when I left, and had I known it was the last time I’d ever see her, I might’ve made it a little more memorable.
Beau ~ Present
I TAPPED THE drumsticks on my leg, my eyes closed and my head nodding as I worked through the lyrics Bex and I had written and finalized just a few days ago. We were going to start rehearsing it this afternoon, but my head wasn’t in the game yet. I’d had a fucking therapy session today, and it had rattled me more than I would admit to anyone. I fucking hated going, but it was a necessary evil in my life. I knew enough to know what would happen if I didn’t keep up with it. That and the damn medicine that kept my head straight. She’d asked me all the typical questions: How are you doing with the new pressure on you? Are you as fine as you pretend to be? Are you letting people in?
The answer to those questions was always the same—to her, anyway. “I’m more than fine. I love my new life, and I’m trying my hardest to let people in. I’d tried going on a date last month, and she didn’t run away screaming.” The truth was far from that, though, and she knew it. I hadn’t been on a date, well . . . ever, and even when I’d been interested in getting to know someone for the first time since Robyn, it had fizzled before it got started. While being one of the hottest new rock bands in the country was fucking awesome, I had no idea how to handle the attention the fame had given me. I’d always been a quiet guy that kept
to myself, but now people wanted to talk to me. People I didn’t know. Girls wanted to fuck me. And I had no idea how to handle any of that.
I didn’t need to practice the drums on my leg anymore. I’d had to do that when we lived in the shitty apartment. Now, Natalie and I had purchased our own home together and had the garage outfitted with soundproof walls so I could practice whenever I wanted, but it was a hard habit to break. It was a ritual at this point.
The door swung open and Natalie breezed in, her blond hair flying behind her. Her hands were full of bags and I got up to help her. She was the one thing in my life that made sense, other than Bex and the band.
“Thanks,” she said. “What are you doing? Ready for practice today? How was therapy?” Leave it to my sister to bombard me with questions without taking a breath.
I shook my head, a laugh rumbling in my chest. “Breathe, Nat.”
She laughed. “Sorry. I’m all over the place this afternoon.” I know the feeling. “I had a phone conference with Allan on the way home.”
Allan was our rep at the label that had signed our band, Jaded Regret, a few years back after our tour with Halestorm.
“Oh? And?” I rubbed my short beard, waiting for her answer. I knew he was working with Natalie on our new tour schedule, which had been put on hold while Bex and Johnny had their new baby and spent time adjusting to being a family of four.
There was nothing like playing with Lennox and holding baby Jaden to realize there was still good in the world. To see Bex happy satisfied me like I never thought possible. That girl had had a shitty life, too, much like Nat and me. She was a bitch with a capital B before Johnny came along, and while they “dated,” or whatever you wanted to call that clusterfuck. Don’t get me wrong, she still had her moments when her inner bitch came roaring out, but Johnny had calmed her. Or maybe being a mom had calmed her. Whatever it was, it looked good on her. Her face was relaxed, and when she smiled, she lit up a room. She’d immediately become America’s Rock Sweetheart, and once she and Johnny were married and had kids? Hell, she was practically idolized.
Snared (Jaded Regret #1) Page 1