Consumed: A Driven World Novel (The Driven World)

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Consumed: A Driven World Novel (The Driven World) Page 1

by Elizabeth Knox




  Consumed

  A Driven World Novel

  Elizabeth Knox

  Contents

  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

  Consumed

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead are entirely coincidental.

  © 2020 KB WORLDS. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

  Published by KB Worlds LLC.

  Cover Design: Clarise Tan, CT Cover Creations

  Editing: Kim Lubbers, Knox Publishing

  Proofreading: Jackie Ziegler, Knox Publishing

  Formatting: E.C. Land, Knox Publishing

  Photographer: Kelsey Keeton, K Keeton Designs

  Model: Tessi Conquest

  Published in the United States of America

  Created with Vellum

  Dear Reader,

  Welcome to the Driven World!

  I’m so excited you’ve picked up this book! Consumed is a book based on the world I created in my New York Times bestselling Driven Series. While I may be finished writing this series (for now), various authors have signed on to keep them going. They will be bringing you all-new stories in the world you know while allowing you to revisit the characters you love.

  This book is entirely the work of the author who wrote it. While I allowed them to use the world I created and may have assisted in some of the plotting, I took no part in the writing or editing of the story. All praise can be directed their way.

  I truly hope you enjoy Consumed. If you’re interested in finding more authors who have written in the KB Worlds, you can visit our website here.

  Thank you for supporting the writers in this project and me.

  Happy Reading,

  K. Bromberg

  To the ones who are afraid.

  Afraid of telling people who you really are.

  It’s okay to be scared, but please don’t let that fear rule your life.

  Live life with happiness, and most of all, with pride.

  Chapter One

  Gemma

  “Gemma, he is gonna kill you and you know it.” Clayton, the eldest of my brothers, grumbles. He drags his hand over his face in defeat, surely exhausted from trying to change my mind.

  “Clay’ . . .” I call him by his nickname, hoping he’ll ease up a bit. Though, I should know better. “No one will ever be able to change my mind. Not when it comes to this. I’m a Storm. It’s what our family is known for, and I’m sure as hell not going to work at the family gym like the rest of the women do.” I huff, ready to dig my heels in the sand and make my stance known.

  “Shit, Gem’.” Here he goes doing the same to me. He shakes his head from left to right, breathing in deeply and hanging his head in defeat. “You know, it’s my job to watch out for you and Poppy. I’ve only ever done what I thought was right . . . and racing was never gonna be in the picture for you two. Not with—” He abruptly stops and I know what he’s going to say.

  Not with how Mom died.

  He doesn’t have to remind me. We all feel the same pain like it was yesterday, a freak fucking accident if we’ve ever been witness to one. She was down with my uncle at the pit stall when my dad’s car started to smoke after a lap. He was able to get out of the car quickly and get to safety, but Mom saw something was wrong. Instead of going off with my father, she ran back to the car and tried to warn some of the crew out of the way before it blew.

  September 28th, 2003.

  The day that will forever be burned into my memory. I was only a four-year-old little girl at the time, one who needed her mother to put her to bed every night. Only, I didn’t know she wouldn’t be coming home.

  If it weren’t for my uncle Jon, our dad would’ve died too.

  “It’s not your place to keep me from following my dream, Clay’. What happened was horrible. It was the most traumatic thing we’ve ever gone through as a family, but not even Dad gave it up. He kept going, and he kept fucking winning. Clay’ . . . I know you won’t understand it, but Mom died on that track and I feel like I have to do this. Please, don’t take this away from me.” He can’t really take anything away, but he can try. He can pit the rest of our immediate family against me, from our father, to our youngest sister Poppy, to our two brothers, Braxton and Trenton. Hell, if he’s feeling particularly shitty, he could even try to get my grandma to give me a good talking to.

  Who knows if it would even work? I love my grandma Ethel more than I could ever find the words for. Through our childhood she kept my mom’s memory alive, day in and day out. For that I’ll be forever grateful, but like everyone else, I won’t let her rip me away from what I want to do.

  “Who am I to tell you what to do?” Clay’ hisses, rising from his rust colored recliner. For a man who has millions, you’d never know it. He still looks like the redneck boy I grew up with and if it weren’t for Poppy and I helping him decorate his place, I’d hate to see what it would’ve ended up looking like.

  Cutting in front of him, I place a hand on his chest. “I’m not like Poppy. You know I can handle this.”

  “Yeah, I know you’re nothin’ like her. Alice O’Shaughnessy told me that much when you were in high school.”

  Alice. My first girlfriend, if I could even call her that. She screwed with my head, and heart in so many ways.

  Clayton chuckles, “Shit. I thought the girl was lyin’ to me back then . . . but this, your reaction, it only confirms it.”

  “Confirms what, Clayton?” I cock a brow, determined to regain my bearings. He can assume all he wants, but the truth of the matter is he doesn’t know anything unless I tell him.

  “You, ya know, walk down the other side of the road.”

  “What?” I furrow my brows. “Goodness, can you at least speak in normal English?”

  “Dammit. You’re into ladies or whatever.” He mutters, almost ashamed to say anything.

  “And why do you think that?” He widens his eyes after my question while I stare him down, causing him to doubt himself. Clay’ is amazing at so much, but when it comes to his confidence, he can really get shot down quite a bit. The front door opens to Clay’s place but I continue on, not really caring who’s walked in during the middle of our conversation. “Oh, because Alice told you? Right. Everything that comes outta her mouth is accurate, right?”

  From the corner of my eye, I glance over to the right and see Trenton has made himself at home and plopped back on the couch. “Don’t tell me you’re talkin’ about that bratty bitch from high school.” Trent’ is only a year older than me, but he had his fair share of dealings with her as well. And spoiler alert, they weren’t good experiences.

  “Yeah, apparently she started a rumor about me being a lesbian.” I tell Trent’, then look back to Clay’.
“That is what she did, right?”

  That last time I saw her she was furious, told me that she was going to tell my entire family what I was and they’d disown me. She was a nasty girl, a real bully . . . but man she hid it under loads of makeup and fake smiles. And it was all because I saw her kissing the quarterback under the bleachers, when her and I were supposedly ‘dating’. How dare I question her. So, I told her to go off and tell them, that I didn’t care, but of course she didn’t stop there. She had to twist the knife in even deeper and say my mom would be ashamed to call me her daughter . . . so I closed my fist and gave her a real shiner.

  To this day, my family still doesn’t know . . . and I don’t know if I’ll ever tell them. We might be known as the Storms, but deep down we’re just a family who grew up in the backwoods of Louisiana.

  “Pfft. What a bitch. She’d do anything to say something nasty about Gem’, and you know it. Why you gonna believe anything she says anyway?” Trent’ immediately comes to my defense, questioning Clay’.

  “Yeah, guess you’re right. I need to get goin’, the gym is gonna close in an hour and I need to show Poppy how to actually clean down the equipment.” Clay’ rolls his eyes, sounding less than pleased.

  “What, she upset she didn’t immediately get a management position?” Trent’ chuckles from his seat.

  “Yeah, somethin’ like that. Now, why don’t you get your asses outta my house. Shit, you should be makin’ enough these days to get your own around here.” Clay’ looks right at Trent’, slightly digging into him.

  “Um, to be fair . . . you asked me here to meal prep for you.” That’s right. Clayton Storm can’t even cook his own damn meals, nor does he trust anyone to do it for him except his baby sister. The man is loaded with issues, but most of them have to do with his trust.

  “Fine, you can stay. But, you, get out.” He points to Trent’ while I walk off into the kitchen to get started. If it weren’t for me, I don’t know how Clay’ would survive.

  Chapter Two

  Keira

  Pinching the bridge of my nose, I know there isn’t anything else that can be done. I’ve given her three strikes and this still continues to happen. “I’m sorry, Keira . . . you know I hated to come up here and tell you this but . . . I don’t know what else I can do. It keeps happening and she’s caused quite a few messes I’ve had to clean up.”

  It’s all true. Madison didn’t want to come up here and tell me her best friend isn’t following orders, or even abiding by the company’s standards. At Corporate Cares, we pride ourselves in our work. For goodness sake, our entire mission is about helping kids who have no one else to fight for them. I don’t know when coming into work drunk has been something we tolerate, but I don’t remember that being in the employment manual.

  Gosh. Okay, that was a bit mean. I’m not normally so bitchy, but a few hours of sleep and no coffee will do that to anyone. Add in the fact I’m in the middle of going to grad school and trying to maintain somewhat of a social life and boom, well, there we have it.

  “Did anything happen with the kids?” I figure it will be a no, but at the way Madison scrunches her nose up I’m immediately proven wrong.

  She blows out a breath and nods, “Yeah, I’ve paged two counselors to get over to the house.”

  “Where is Sasha now?”

  “Being detained by Morris.”

  Morris, who’s one of the laziest guards if I’ve ever met one. I’m sure the only thing he’s watching is the back of his eyelids.

  “Okay, and who did you call to go over to the boy’s house?” If there is a God, she will tell me at least one of them was Rylee. She’s arguably the most experienced counselor we have here, and depending on what went down, the kids will need her to lift their spirits like she’s always doing.

  “Mason and Regina are on their way over. I figured given the event, we needed a male and female.” I’m in no way their boss, but, if you asked me Madison didn’t think clearly.

  I nod my head once, “Right, um, well I think if you gave Rylee a call and explained the situation, she’d appreciate it. She might even want to make a stop over to the house and double check that the boys are okay. Now, are you going to tell me what happened . . . or do I need to get that from Sasha?” I rise from behind my desk to stand and notice Madison’s face turns blood red.

  “Given the circumstances, can we recap it later? It’s already been such a long day.” Madison runs a hand through her long, curly brown hair, appearing more defeated than she was when she walked in my office.

  “Certainly, just remember to fill out the incident report form and bring it to me tomorrow morning. When that happens, we’ll go over everything. Thanks for coming to tell me, Madison, but I have to get going and handle the situation. I’ll see you in the morning.” Walking around my desk, I give her an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder before I head over to my closet and grab my light duster coat and purse. Once I’ve slid my purse over my shoulder, I make my way down the long corridor, and pass the receptionist’s desk before I’m at the elevator. The second the elevator doors open I high tail it in there in the hopes no one will follow me inside.

  For a few moments I debate what to do next, knowing there are really only two options. I can either treat Sasha like an employee for Corporate Cares . . . as is my job, or I can treat her like a human as well. The only problem is I’m not supposed to be someone who cares about what happens to these people. I was hired as the human resources manager to handle payroll, tax forms, and all of that . . . but over the last year they’ve brought me to job fairs, interviews, and so much more. Before I even realized it, my job turned into something totally different. And if I’m being honest, I started to care . . . a lot more than I should’ve.

  These people who work for the charity . . . I’ve realized we all have rough pasts and this place is what speaks to our soul. It resonates with us in some retrospect, so I feel it’s my duty to not only be a human resources manager, but an ally. So, that’s what I’m going to do for Sasha. I’m going to be her ally.

  Before I change my mind, I take my phone out of my purse and unlock the screen. Tapping two more times until I see Vic’s name. Hovering my finger over his name, I wait for a split second before tapping it again. The ringing sound is loud enough I can hear it before I even press the phone to my ear.

  “Hey, everything alright?” He asks in a sweet tone.

  Sweet as sin, ‘cause this man isn’t kind. “Yeah, though, I need a favor.”

  “What kind of favor?”

  I’ve never done this before, but if I don’t at least try . . . I’ll always wonder ‘what if’. “I have someone who needs to get into the program, and she can’t wait. She’s bad, Vic . . . and the commercials say how the Recovery Center is the best . . . so I’m going to ask you if there’s any way you can get her in one of the centers. LA, Malibu, Phoenix, Seattle . . . it doesn’t matter where. I’ll make sure she gets there, but, please . . . can you find a spot for her?”

  The sound of hot air blowing through a kettle comes to mind as Vic thinks about what I’ve said. “How important is this person to you?”

  “Let’s not play games, Vic. Can you find a spot for her, or not?”

  “I can always make room. But I’m not doing this for free.”

  Of course, there had to be something he wanted. “What do you want?”

  “Mmm, Kaia. Christmas, the next three years.”

  My mouth drops open in complete shock. “You have to be kidding me.”

  “That makes me feel like you don’t want to help this woman out.”

  Typical Victor Ortega. Callous, merciless, and most of all, heartless. He’ll go straight for the jugular without hesitation.

  “Fine. You can get Kaia for the next three Christmases. I’m sure your mother would appreciate that anyway.” Bitch of a mother is what I should’ve said.

  He releases a slight chuckle, “Perfect. You still coming to pick our daughter up tomorrow night at six?”
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  “Why wouldn’t I be, Vic?”

  “Just making sure.”

  Yeah, right. More like he’s trying to cause more issues. “I’ll see you tomorrow, but I’ll call you later tonight to figure out where to take my . . . friend.”

  “Alright. Hey baby, Momma is on the phone. Wanna talk?” Vic’s tone changes from the callous mafioso he is, to sweet like pure sugar. This façade is what made me fall in love with him in the first place.

  “Momma!” Kaia screeches loudly and a few seconds pass by. “Momma! I miss you.”

  “I miss you, baby. Are you having fun with Daddy?”

  “Mhm, he took me to the park today and tomorrow we go to the zoo! He said so!” If it weren’t for his foul nature, I’d be so happy for her, but here I stand, knowing I need to fake it.

  “That’s great, sweetie. I’m glad you’re having so much fun.”

  “Yeah, it’s the best!” And just like that, the line goes dead. Glancing up, I see I’m in the parking garage. Ah, right on time to lose signal.

  With a huff I drop my phone back into my purse and dig out my keys, ready to make my break for it when the doors open. Yet again, I’ve made another deal with the devil. I only hope I can live with the price I’ve paid, and more than that, I hope Sasha will appreciate the sacrifice I’ve made for her health.

  Chapter Three

  Gemma

  By the time I’m finish meal prepping for Clayton it’s around seven at night. I made him a mixture of marinated chicken and salmon, sweet potatoes, rice, and green vegetables. He’s a picky eater, yet loves consistency, so at least I have him covered here. An hour ago, Poppy gave me a call and asked if we could go out to dinner. It’s her first official day working at the gym, so I agreed. She probably wants to go out for a much needed drink. Can’t say I blame her, especially after Alice being brought up earlier. I’m still furious about that.

 

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