By: Jordan Marie
Formatting Services: Paul Salvette & BB eBooks
Editing Services: Twin Sisters Rocking Book Reviews
Proofreading Services: Dessure Hutchins
Jen Wildner with: Prim and Wild
And Kathryn Jacoby with: My Book Angel Blog
Copyright © 2015
Kindle Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author.
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s/author’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of 250,000.00 (www.fbi.gov/ipr). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your respect of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are created from the author’s imagination and used in a fictitious manner.
Cover:
Designer: Margreet Asselbergs – Rebel Edit Designs
Model: Ricky Alm
Photographer: Tristin Godsey of Trystram Photography Artistry
WebPage: Trystram Photography Web Page
Picture of Woman: Dollar Photo Club
(Stock Photo used on the back of paperback only)
Trademarks:
Any brands, titles, artists used in this book were mentioned purely for artistic purposes and are either used as a product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. None of the herein mentioned products, artists etc., endorse this book whatsoever and the author acknowledges their trademarked status which has been used in this work of fiction.
Author acknowledges trademarked status or owners of various products and further acknowledges that said use is not authorized or endorsed by said owners. While some places in this book might mention actual areas or places, author acknowledges that it was purely for entertainment purposes and not endorsed by owners or has nothing to do with actual place and was mentioned to further reader’s enjoyment only.
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It is not to be re-sold or given away to others and doing so is a violation of the copyright.
The Content in this book is intended for mature audiences only. 18+ and above.
Contains sexual violence, rape, sexual situations, multiple partner sex, violence, excessive profanity, and death. Reader should please read with that knowledge. Please do not read if any of the above offends you.
Previous Titles in the Series
Breaking Dragon Savage Brothers MC Book 1
Saving Dancer Savage Brothers MC Book 2
Loving Nicole Savage Brothers MC Book 3
Crusher
I see her. I see her clearer than anyone ever has—even her best friend.
There are secrets in those beautiful brown eyes. Secrets that have broken her.
She reminds me of someone else. Someone I loved. Someone I was unable to save.
I won’t fail with her.
I want to claim her as my own and take away the ghosts that leave her haunted.
Dani
Little girl lost…
The woman I once was, is gone. All that remained of her were broken pieces lying ravaged and scattered by a storm.
I tried to piece her back together, to sift through the wreckage and re-create her.
It was impossible. She was too damaged. She died.
From her ashes I arose.
Untouchable, unfeeling, unworthy—the new me is not quite, right.
I don’t even like me. Why would he?
One man destroyed me. Why would I ever claim another?
Two damaged souls—
One trying to re-live the past, one trying to forget it.
Can they heal each other?
Title Page
Copyright Page
Previous Titles in the Series
About the Book
Dedication
Foreword
The Beginning of the End of 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
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Epilogue
Excerpt from Trusting Bull
Excerpt from Exposed
Excerpt from Remember Me
Excerpt from Misled
Note from Author
Links
Playlists
Dedication
I am a lover of words. They have saved my life, help me to escape and brought solace when it felt as if I was drowning. It’s still hard for me to believe that I get to write words and that people want to read it. I can never express what a gift that is, because I honestly don’t think words are invented that adequately describe it. So, first and foremost, thank you readers for not only letting me live my dream, but encouraging me. I am forever in your debt.
Thank you as always to my friend Kurt Gangluff, may life always find you filled with joy and peace and dreams of Rooster.
Tammie Smith, you are my wonder twin. You save my life daily and there’s no way I can repay you for everything you do. I love you boo thang. I love you beyond words.
Dessure Hutchins, you didn’t know me but you had my back. That blows me away. From that, I gained one of the best friends and confidants a girl could have. Thank you for all your hard work and for always making me laugh and sharing your misadventures with Grady. You’re a light in my day woman.
Grady ‘G6’ Hutchins, thank you for becoming what I must now measure every book boyfriend I write by. Keep our DD happy or I shall have to write you in a book and do something evil to you. Sorry, not sorry.
Tami Czenkus, I don’t need to say anything, you know. I love you beyond words.
To my crew who helped me like crazy with this book, LaVida Briscoe, Michelle McGinty, Jen Wildner, Tammie S., Dessure, and Tami C. Thanks for holding my hand and telling me when I sucked.
To the Badass Betas who provided great feedback as well as helped encourage me, I love you ladies big, Tamra Simons, Andrea Florkowski, and Melody Bruce Miller.
Neringa, I don’t think
you get how much you mean to me. I shall tell you as often as I can so that maybe someday you will grasp it. Thank you woman, you are AMAZING.
Melissa Anne Allen, I hope you like your rendezvous with Bull. Thank you for the support lady. Happy Reading.
Angel Dust, my friend, I just love the hell out of you. That’s all I got. You are amazing.
Fran and CJ as always thanks for putting up with me missing deadlines and working in a panic. I truly love you ladies.
To my street team, which really are just some of the most amazing women I have ever had the chance to get to know. I love each and every one of you. I have signings piled up next year and I hope I get the chance to meet all of you. If I get so lucky we must make it a point to get together and get chocolate wasted. My treat. #BadassBitches4Life
Foreword
Readers as always I’ve tried really hard to write this book so that you don’t have to read the whole series. For the most part, I do believe I have achieved that goal. The heroine in this book was first written in Breaking Dragon and at first she was a throw-away character I had every intention of writing off and never hearing from again. Then she spoke.
There are scenes in this book that contain graphic violence. Her story is not pretty. Do not read if you can’t handle the violence she endured. However, I hope you do follow her journey and see the strength it took to get to the other side. That said, along with the violence and rape scenes there are consensual sex scenes that involve multiple partners and all that entails. This was your warning.
For those that remain, enjoy! (Hopefully)
J
The Beginning
of the
End of Her
Melinda
I don’t know what set him off this time. I honestly don’t. I’m always so careful—the past year has taught me to be careful. I don’t argue, I don’t question. I make sure everything he could possibly want or ask from me is within reach. The cook knows the menu a solid week in advance. All meals are approved by Michael. In fact, everything is approved by Michael right down to the color of my hair (red) and the pale, pink lip gloss I wear. I do not make a move unless it is approved by him.
I’ve been doing this for so long now, it has become second nature. I’m almost robotic with it all. So, I honestly have no idea why I’m being summoned to his office. My hands are shaking and a cold, clammy sweat pops out over my body. My stomach flutters nervously and I’m glad I haven’t eaten. I’m standing outside Michael’s office in our home and I’m terrified to knock, because I know what will happen. If I don’t knock? If I try to run away? Michael will make me pay. I know, because I’ve done it in the past. I’ve learned not to run now—it hurts less. I stiffen my backbone and knock gently. I send up a prayer that he will be asleep or gone. As usual, the prayer goes unanswered. God forgot about me a long time ago. I’m not sure he ever remembered me.
“Come in, Melinda.” Michael says through the closed door. His voice sounds bored, tired even. I know better. The monster inside of him is pacing quickly, back and forth, waiting to pounce.
I come in without a word. I still the shaking in my hands, so I can gently shut the door. I walk to the chair in front of his desk, keeping my head down and avoiding eye contact. When I sit down and notice the green silk slip dress I have on, I panic. Michael doesn’t like green. He prefers me to wear light pastels. I have closets full of pink, lavender, and yellow. Those are acceptable colors. I have on the green dress because Michael was supposed to be gone today. Is that what upset him? I’m so stupid! Why do I even keep this dress?
“It would appear we have a problem, Melinda,” he states calmly. Then again, Michael is always calm. Even when he is doling out punishment, his voice never raises. It stays clipped, concise, and in a proper tone. That somehow makes him scarier to me.
“I’m sorry,” I say by reflex. I don’t know what I’ve done, it doesn’t matter what I’ve done.
“I’m afraid that’s not good enough considering your crime.”
My crime. He always uses that term, as if he is the judge, jury, and executioner in charge, and I’m the repeat offender. I want to ask what I did. It’s on the tip of my tongue to question. I don’t, I bite my tongue and concentrate on the pain instead. When I make no move to question him further, Michael lets out a loud sigh. The sound is one of annoyance. Annoyance from Michael and directed at me, only means bad things. I can’t stop the way my heart kicks into overdrive, or the apologies which immediately spring up and rest on my lips. I don’t give them voice, I beat them back. You can’t show the monster weakness, he can smell it and he will devour you. I pull my eyes from my shoes, to look out the window. I search for the sun outside. I’m not free, but if I can concentrate on the warm glare of the sun it will help—another lesson I’ve learned over the last year. I try to focus my breathing and that’s when I see it.
On his desk is a tube of carnal, red lipstick. I love it and I put it on when I’m alone. I dream of a day when I can wear this color all the time. I’m not brave enough to buy it. No, I’m not sure I have any bravery left in me. It was a gift from Nicole. I try to keep nothing out in the open of Nicole or my time at Three Oaks. Nicole might have hated the place, but I loved every minute of it. If only because it allowed me to stay away from Michael. When his lawyers found a judge they could buy and had that portion of my father’s will overturned, hell truly began for me. I had no choice but to marry Michael and move in with him. I tried running. I tried and failed. I have the scars to prove it.
So, I stored away the good memories I had. Most of which, admittedly, revolve around Nicole. I risk a lot just to remain in contact with Nic, but she’s my lifeline. If I don’t hear her voice at least once a week, I feel hopeless. I can’t let hope fade. If I give in…I’ll never survive. Then, Michael will truly win.
How did he find the lipstick? I’m always so careful. I rack my brain trying to remember where I could have left it. Then I see it. The small, wooden box I keep hidden in the air conditioning vent in my closet. Inside are my most prized possessions. I may have been the Marinetti Shipping heir, but I had nothing unless Michael provided it. No, my most prized possessions would bring you nothing at an auction. They consist of four things. Four things that mean everything to me.
First was the lipstick Nicole gave me. Next was a note from my father. The very last note I ever got from him. I don’t know why I keep it. I hate him for what he did to me. There’s a picture of me and Nicole in one of those silly photo booths at a town fair. It was probably the best day I’ve ever had in my life. Finally, there is the one thing in this world that I need to survive. The one thing I touch every night. My mother’s medallion. She gave it to me before she died. It’s my last connection to my mother. I can’t lose it. I can’t.
My heart stops. The monster has them. I know he won’t give them back. He will destroy them, just to prove a point. He will relish in the fact that he is hurting me. A hundred words come to my lips, words I could use to beg him to give back my things. I clench my hands in tight fists, letting my nails bite into my skin. I can’t beg. Begging him only incites him to go further, to be meaner. I remain quiet, waiting.
“Have you nothing to say, Melinda?”
“I am sorry, Michael.”
“Is there some reason you have kept these things hidden from me, my darling wife?”
The fake sugary-sweetness he uses when calling me his wife causes the acid in my stomach to boil. How much hate can one person hold in their body? There are times, when I think I have nothing left but hate.
How do I answer? Do I tell him I didn’t want him touching them? That if he did, he would somehow taint them? Do I lie and say they are unimportant? I’m honestly at a loss on how to answer.
In the end, I shrug and try playing down the whole thing.
“They are just memories of my childhood. Nothing that important, Michael,” I answer, trying to inject sincerity into my words.
Michael comes around in front of me leaning on hi
s desk. His arms are crossed and he looks so relaxed. I know what’s coming though. I know what always happens when I do something to displease the monster. The sick feeling inside of me floods through my bloodstream. Will he kill me this time? He’s come close before. Will tonight be the final end of it all? I think I’d be okay if it was. I need it to end. I can’t keep going on like this. I’m tired.
“Very well Melinda, you may leave. I shall dispose of your trinkets.”
Two main emotions flood me at the same time. Relief that I have escaped his punishment this time and then agony. He will dispose…my gaze lands, one last time on my mother’s medallion and I can’t stop the small tear that falls on my cheek. I know it’s a mistake. I know I should be quiet, but I can’t. That necklace is all I have of my mom. There are no pictures, everything else has been ripped away from me, save for that one lone trinket. So, even knowing I should hold it back, I can’t. I know before I say the words I shouldn’t. I do. I just can’t stop myself.
“Something you would like to say, Melinda?
“Please, Michael, please.”
“Please what, wife?”
I hate that term. I am barely eighteen. I shouldn’t be married. I should be dating and I would never date anyone like Michael Kavanagh. Just hearing the words and knowing that it links the two of us together causes bile to rise into my throat. I fight it back down.
“Don’t destroy the necklace. It was my mothers. It’s all I have left of her…”
I hate begging. I feel so weak, so inferior. Yet, I know if I approach this any other way, there will be no saving any of my belongings. The chance is small even with me begging.
I watch as he picks up the chain and lets it slide between his cruel hands. I see it now. The smug darkness in his eyes. I’ve given the monster power. It is all he needs. It is what he has been waiting for. Perhaps I am as stupid as Michael keeps insisting I am.
“Is the necklace important to you, wife?”
Again that word…the term that makes my stomach roll.
Claiming Crusher: Savage Brothers MC Page 1