Fire swirled in his eyes, his square jaw clenched, and her stomach dropped. She had no hope of getting away from him now. The asshole was just getting warmed up.
With his hand still wrapped in her hair, he dragged her toward the bedroom. She yelped and he tugged harder. Tears rolled down her cheeks but she couldn’t hold them back any longer. She’d hidden her feelings for months. What Shane wanted always mattered more. He came first. That’s what he always said. But she did matter. She did count. Her tears proved there was still something worth saving buried deep inside her.
She was taking back her life. This would be the last time she would ever let him beat her, to force her to do what he wanted. She may not have his muscles, but she could fight back.
She dug her heels into the carpet and grabbed the edge of the counter. No way would she let him drag her into the bedroom. He could screw a hole in the wall for all she cared.
He released her hair. Thank God. But her relief was short-lived. He pinched her arm and pried at her fingers that gripped the counter. She couldn’t let him pull her away. She clung harder to the wood and braced her feet. Only a few more steps to the front door and she could dash into the yard. She’d have to keep running, though. The trailer sat a long way down a deserted dirt road. They didn’t have any neighbors close by. If she had to, she’d find a place in the woods to hide. Anything to wait Shane out. Eventually he’d pass out. He had to… it was her only hope.
Shane had burrowed himself into her life as he was burrowing into her fingers now. She didn’t have any friends left. Her family had given up on her. What she wouldn’t give for one of her brothers to come knocking on the door right about now. They’d tried to help her, repeatedly, but she hadn’t believed she needed them. Or anyone.
But Shane had never been this bad before. The expression in his eyes made her heart lurch. For the first time, she questioned whether she could break free of him or whether she’d be alive tomorrow to tell someone about his attack.
With his jaw clenched, lips pursed, and brows furrowed, he stared a hole straight through her. Pure evil filled his eyes. Had his hatred always been there, hiding until he chose the right time to reveal his true self? After she was trapped with him, with nowhere to go?
Shane finally pried her fingers off the counter and she fell back. He towered over her, his hands on his hips, and spit on her. She swiped at her cheek, wobbled, and smacked against the hard floor butt-first.
She brushed his vile, beer-filled saliva off her face. Bile rose in her throat but she shoved it down. She refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing exactly how revolting she found him.
He always poked her, prodded her, figured out how to hurt her the most. He made her question her own actions time and again. On the floor, she was at his mercy, but she couldn’t get her feet beneath her to stand. He didn’t actually grab her… just threatened to. That was how Shane operated. The mere threat of his wrath was usually enough to keep her in line.
But she’d had enough, and she would fight back. With her hands behind her and her feet beneath her, she scrambled backward like a crab. What would he do? He could try anything, but each crawl took her a bit closer to the door and freedom.
With each of her backward lurches, he took one step forward. One, then another, matching her movements toward the door. “You think you can get away from me, bitch? Think again.”
Together they inched closer to the door where the phone lay open and the lights on the keypad shone bright. Maybe she had connected the call to 9-1-1. Help had better be coming, because she couldn’t keep holding Shane off. And if she couldn’t...
Somewhere in the distance, sirens wailed. Please let them be coming for me. Hopefully Shane hadn’t heard them yet. He wasn’t afraid of the deputies, and why should he be? He’d talked himself out of worse situations than this one. Had his Daddy get him out of the stickier jams. Of course, her unwillingness to speak up for herself helped his cause. Why had she refused the help that her brothers… and Sawyer, their friend… had offered her so many times?
She crept closer to the door. Only a few more steps and she’d reach the door before he grabbed her.
The sirens grew louder. Thank God. With no one else in the area, they had to be coming for her. Shane lifted his head and scowled before he snapped his head back to her, fire in his eyes.
“You bitch.” He kicked her in the side. All the air in her lungs escaped, and she crumpled against the floor. But only for a moment. Ignoring the pain, she rolled onto her stomach and scrambled toward the door. Her fingers clawed at the carpet, the stink-ridden fibers and layers of dirt getting under her nails.
Shane’s big arms gripped her around the waist. He pulled and she slid against the carpet.
“Shane, stop. Let me go.”
“No way. You’re mine. And you always will be.”
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Of Note
WHILE MOST OF this story is fictionalized, Honor Beer is a real product, produced by Honor Winery and Honor Brewing Company, based in Virginia. The mission of Honor Brewing is to launch a series of craft beers that pay tribute to and honor the men and women that serve/served our country with the goal of donating portions of the profits to military charities that provide assistance to the families of fallen soldiers or those that have been severely injured. To date, Honor Brewing has raised and donated over $200,000 for charities of the fallen and injured. The Tribute Tap described in this story is a patented product offered by Honor Brewing to honor a member of the U.S. Military. More about Honor Brewing can be found at www.honorbrewing.com. Honoring Those Who Serve.
Jayden’s Hope is modeled after many non-profit and for-profit organizations across the United States that build homes for disabled veterans. Contact your local organization if you’re interested in volunteering for or supporting an organization that builds homes for veterans.
If you or someone you know is in an abusive relationship, please reach out to the National Domestic Violence Hotline, www.thehotline.org.
Books by Nancy Stopper
Oak Grove Series:
Last Call
One Last Risk
One Last Dance
One Last Chance
One Last Objection
One Last Gift - part of the Mistletoe Kisses Box set
Kindle Worlds:
Dreams Come True in Laguna
part of the Laguna Beach Kindle World
Nancy Stopper is an award-winning debut author. She writes contemporary romance with strong women and sexy heroes that tug at your emotional heartstrings and leave you with a warm feeling that lingers long after the last page. Her favorite escape is small-town romance and even when set in a larger location, her books have that small-town feel.
Her first novel, One Last Risk, won first place in the Short Contemporary Romance category of the Fool for Love Contest and was a Maggie Finalist in the unpublished Single-Title Contemporary Category.
Dreams Come True in Laguna, Nancy's first novella, was published in the Laguna Beach Kindle World in 2016. Her first full-length contemporary romance novel will be published in 2017.
Nancy lives in Virginia with her husband, two of her three kids that are still at home, and one cat who regards her with disdain daily. When she's not behind her laptop, you can find her at a ballfield, cheering on her favorite team (Washington Nationals) or her favorite player (her son, who pitches for his local high school), or at a dance performance with her daughter.
Nancy Stopper
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Acknowledgements
To my family... this book has been a bit of a challenge to bring to you, with some schedule delays crunching activities together. There just aren’t enough hours in the day to get it all done. You’ve been patient with me as the house grows messy, dinners aren’t made,
and I’m clicking away at my keyboard late into the night. I love you all.
I know I have thanked Maggie Blackbird in each of my books to date, but she deserves it. One Last Dance was actually the first book of mine that she read. She was very gentle and sensitive to the fragile emotions of this new writer. She pointed me in the right direction, gave me resources to work through, and helped me make Joey and Brittany’s story so much better than it otherwise would have been.
Thanks to Jody Wallace of MeanKitty editing for jumping in and offering to edit this book when I had to scramble for a last minute editor. And for throwing in the random “content edit” from time to time during my line edit, just to help make it as clean as possible.
And thanks to Lynn Mullan for adjusting her schedule based on my editing delay and making sure every “i” was dotted and every “t” was crossed. And every time, she finds one or two inconsistencies that got past me and my editor (usually its an eye color mix up!)
Amanda Kelsey with Razzle Dazzle Designs designed my beautiful cover. I love the striking red in Brittany’s outfit and this couple really suits my story very well.
I wouldn’t be where I am in my writing career without the wonderful ladies and gentlemen on Romance Divas. They are there to give me feedback, turn me around when I’m headed in the wrong direction, and celebrate successes with me. It’s my writing home on the internet. Many of those ladies have given hours out of their busy lives to respond to questions and share their knowledge with others.
Nancy Stopper
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One Last Dance
Oak Grove Series, Book 2
By: Nancy Stopper
Published by Nancy Stopper
© 2017
Cover by Razzle Dazzle Designs
This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual events or locals or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at [email protected].
Nancy Stopper
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One Last Dance Page 24