“Kolson, I ...”
He stops me with a kiss. And then says against my mouth, “Remember that day I told you I never intended for you to fall in love with me?”
“Yes. I remember it well.”
“I wish you hadn’t. For all of the beauty that exists within and around you, I’m afraid that I’m only going to be a source of hurt and disappointment for you. But know I didn’t intend for it to happen this way. I only wanted to keep you safe. Forever. It doesn’t make sense to you now, but it will one day. And when that day comes, promise me, promise me you’ll at least try to understand why I did it.”
“Kolson, ...”
He pushes me back and lies above me, resting his weight on his arms. Eyes, hazy with torment drill into mine. “I’ve never known anything so beautiful in my life such as you.” He cups my face and presses his lips to mine. “Now I’m going to dirty you with my ugly, nasty secrets. You’re finally going to hear the sick truth about how fucked up I really am.” The muscles in his throat constrict and he works to swallow. “You’ll finally know why I couldn’t tell you. Why it was so difficult for me.” His face contorts with agony as a fine sheen of perspiration glows on his skin.
Holy shit! This was so not what I expected him to say.
Since Freeing Her was born from Dirty Nights, I thought it appropriate to include an excerpt in here. If you are the least bit curious in learning more about Sky and Ryder, you and do so in Dirty Nights, which is their story:
If you like your romances light and sweet, this is NOT for you. This is a tough and gritty story of heartbreak, rejection, and hard love. You’ve been warned.
Life isn’t easy.
Nor is it fair.
And you don’t get to choose who you fall in love with.
Sometimes love chooses you.
Skylina...Her story is not pretty. Discarded like trash by her father. Forced into prostitution by her mother. Used and abused, she learns to cope. And survives. Because she has to. What other choice is there?
Ryder...His story is every bit as ugly. Beaten and left for dead. A star whose light was extinguished long before it should have been. Now a he’s drug addict who wrestles with the demons that try to destroy him.
Two broken people...
Extraordinary circumstances...
Pasts that could tear them apart.
And now for an excerpt from Dirty Nights...
When I unlock the door, I head to the bathroom to brush my teeth and take a shower. The hot water soothes and calms me after a long night of dancing. I wrap the towel around me and walk to the bedroom, in search of a T-shirt.
“You shouldn’t dance like that for strangers.”
“AAAHH!” I scream. The hooded stranger is sitting on my bed, feet stretched out and crossed at the ankles.
“Drop that towel, Skylina.” I’d know that voice anywhere.
“Not until you take that hood off.” He reaches up and tugs it off. “When did you find out?”
“The same time I found out you’re also a fucking paid whore. That you sell yourself to other men.” His voice is low, but hard.
His words bite much deeper and hurt far worse than anything has ever hurt me before. Worse than when my dad walked out of my life and abandoned me. Worse than when my mom sold me to Mikey. And greater than any physical punch anyone ever landed on me.
My fists clutch the towel to me and I hang my head in shame. Tears instantly blur my vision and the urge to get out of here overwhelms me. But my clothes are in the bedroom and he’s next to the dresser where they’re stored.
“Are you deaf? I told you to drop the towel.” His voice is like vinegar to my wounds.
I back out of the room, away from him. My brain tumbles with thoughts of what to do, where to go. My coat … it’s in the living room, but my shoes are in the bathroom. I can make do with them and figure something out later.
“Skylina,” he calls out, “I’m paying you. Is my money not good enough for you?”
Paying me? What is he talking about? I don’t care to find out because every one of his words is like a razor blade slicing up my heart and soul and I can’t bear for them to be sliced any more. I stumble into the bathroom, and attempt to push my feet into my shoes, but they aren’t cooperating. When I try to run to the living room, I trip and fall, letting go of the towel as my hands smack the floor. My palms sting like fire and as I lie there, I see a pair of feet in my line of vision.
“You’re a kept woman, Skylina. Where are you going?” His tone is so scathing it makes me cringe.
I know I must escape from here … get away because his words make me feel dirty … so much dirtier than I already am. And it’s making me sick to my stomach. I scramble to my hands and knees and crawl to my coat. Shoving my hands through the sleeves, I somehow manage to get it on. But I can’t button it because my hands are trembling so much. With one shoe on and one off, coat unbuttoned, I run out the door. Tripping down the steps, I twist my ankle and fall the last three, slamming onto the floor and bruising my knees. My vision is so blurred from my tears, I can’t see.
Bands of steel wrap around my torso and lift me. He carries me back to that horrible place from which I want to flee. When he gets inside, he slams the door behind us and drops me on the couch. He returns with some tissues and removes the one shoe I’m wearing. Then he examines my ankle, which is already swelling. I realize then, that I’ve ruined my chance for the audition the next day and a new flood of tears bursts through my lids.
His hands start tugging off my coat and then I start to fight. My fists fly out at him and I want to punch and hurt him for saying those things to me.
“Leave me alone! Don’t touch me! Haven’t you humiliated me enough? Now you want me naked as well?” My chest heaves from the exertion of each breath and my hands are fisted as though I’m ready to strike again.
“I only want to help you change into these.” He holds up a pair of sweats in his hands.
When I see what he has, it brings on another round of tears.
“Come on, Skylina, let me help.”
I give no resistance as he takes off my coat and puts the sweats on me. Then he pulls me onto his lap where I sob my heart out. When they eventually give way to hiccups, he asks how my ankle is.
“It’s ruined me.”
“Ruined you? How so?”
“I was supposed to audition for a dance production tomorrow.” Hiccup … hiccup. “My friend went through a whole lot of trouble to help me and now I won’t be able to dance.”
“Hmm. Maybe you will. I can wrap it for you. I know a lot about ankle injuries.”
I rub my face with my sleeve, drying the tears. I move to get up but his arms tighten around me.
“I’m not letting you up, Skylina.”
I lift my eyes to his and try to figure him out. I see nothing in them to give him away.
“What do you want from me, Ryder?”
“The truth.”
Gritting my teeth, I say, “You already know the truth. You said it yourself. I’m a fucking paid whore and I sell myself to other men. Oh, and while we’re on the subject, I’m a sleazy private dancer, too. I’m a slut, Ryder. A filthy dirty slut. My mom’s a drug addict who sold me to her pimp when I was sixteen. I’ve been used, abused and raped. When I turned eighteen, I found someone who thought I was worth something.” A bitter laugh rushes out of me. “A better pimp if you will, who treated me with a bit of decency.” No one knows this. No one. Why am I telling him this? I guess it’s because none of it matters anymore. I always had some small element of pride in myself. Maybe it was because I was forced to do what I do. But he’s reduced me to nothing … stripped me bare so I don’t even have that tiny bit of pride any more. “I’ve taken care of my mom since then. What else do you want to know? Do I like what I do? No. I despise myself for it. Every ferking day. And you just drove that point home. Like a damn knife to my heart. Why don’t I quit? What else can I do to keep my mom off the street and her drug
habit paid for? I can’t go to school. I can’t wait tables. It doesn’t pay enough. So now you know. Can I get up and leave now?” I’ve finally run out of steam. My voice sounds dull and lifeless even to my ears.
I’m not aware tears are flowing again until he takes my face in his hands and wipes them away. He stands, still holding me and puts me in bed. Then he lies down behind me and pulls me close to him. I don’t want to like being next to him. I don’t want to like the way he smells when he curls behind me and tucks my head under his chin. I want to hate him. But I don’t. God help me I don’t.
About the Author
A.M. Hargrove is the romance author of the Edge Series (Edge of Disaster, Shattered Edge and Kissing Fire), Exquisite Betrayal, Dirty Nights (which is also available as a serial novella published under the pen name of Emerson St. Clair), and the romantic suspense companion novels Tragically Flawed (Tragic 1) and Tragic Desires (Tragic 2). She is also the author of the young adult paranormal/sci-fi The Guardians of Vesturon Series (Survival, Resurrection, Determinant, reEmergent and Beginnings) and the adult spin off novels Dark Waltz and Death Waltz (release date late 2014). She divides her time between the mountains of North Carolina and the upstate of South Carolina where she pursues her dream career of writing. Her family considers her crazy, her friends will agree, but she’s always game for some fun times. If she could change anything in the world, she would make chocolate and ice cream a part of the USDA food groups.
If you would like to hear more about what’s going on with her, please subscribe to her mailing list here.
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