REDEEMED
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BOOK 2 OF THE LOVE SEEKERS SERIES
MARIA VICKERS
Table of Contents
Title Page
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
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
From the Author
Redeemed
Copyright © 2017 Maria Vickers
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this book may be reproduced, copied, or transmitted in any medium, whether electronic, internet, or otherwise, without the expressed permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, locations, and names occurring in this book are the product of the author’s imagination, or are the property of their respective owners and are used fictitiously.
Any resemblances to actual events, locations, or persons (living or dead), is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.
All trademarks and trade names are used in a fictitious manner and are in no way endorsed by or an endorsement of their respective owners.
Contains sexual situations, violence, sensitive and offensive language, and/or mature topics.
Recommended for age 18 years and up.
Cover Design: T.E. Black Designs;
www.authorteblack.com
Editing: Shana Vanterpool
https://shanavanterpool.com/editing-services/
Dedication
Dedicated to the misunderstood and mistreated. Sometimes the mask we show is now who we really are. Let your light shine through. Healthy, disabled, young, or old…you are a wonderful addition to the world. Do not let others dull your shine.
You are beautiful.
Chapter 1
Chad
I watched her.
I watched her because I could do nothing else. From the time the happy couple announced their engagement, to tonight’s wedding, I watched her. I had to make sure that everything turned out perfectly. That no one, and I meant no one, ruined Emma’s special day. Emma deserved that much and so much more.
And so I watched and waited for something to happen. I waited for her feelings to change, for her to accept the changes happening in her life—in everyone’s lives—and for her to realize nothing would change Bryan’s feelings.
Rayne needed to come to grips and realize Emma and Bryan belonged together. All of the hate and anger Rayne directed at Emma for stealing her big brother changed nothing. They loved each other, and tonight they solidified it with vows.
More than anyone else I knew, Emma deserved this. She had fought through so much hurt and strife after developing myasthenia gravis—a neuromuscular condition that made her weak—and she finally found her prince. She finally had her happy ending.
And I watched her too, because I couldn’t turn my eyes away from her. Emma was unique. Bryan had thrust her into my life, only to steal her away from me. I lost her, and while it hurt and I wanted to grab her and carry her away from him, even I couldn’t do that to her. If I needed any proof of how deeply her feelings ran for my friend, her face and eyes spoke volumes as she walked down the aisle toward her groom earlier today.
French horns signaled the beginning of the wedding march, and the guests shifted and spun around to gaze down the makeshift aisle created in the sand with the white folding chairs. The rows were not neat or straight; the sand prevented them from being perfect, and add to that the fact people had been sitting and now stood, they’d accidentally adjusted the chairs to be a bit haphazard. But no one cared. Least of all the bride and groom. They only had eyes for each other.
Her father had one arm wrapped around her waist and the other held hers in order to steady her. She had refused to use her walker or cane to walk down the aisle to her future husband. And honestly, I couldn’t blame her. She slowly took one step at a time down the path that led to Bryan Sampson, fumbling only once, but luckily her father caught her before she faltered too much. The sand was too much for her to navigate, but it had always been her dream to have a beach wedding—a carryover fantasy from before she got sick—and Bryan decided she should have everything her heart desired, wedding and all.
Gazing into each other’s eyes as she made the slow journey that would herald their new life together, love shone brightly in her brown eyes. Bryan was her world. I tore my eyes away from her briefly, turning to look at the groom from my perch beside him as one of his groomsmen, and his own expression reflected the same emotions: love, happiness, and peace. These two belonged together.
Bryan was dressed in a pressed black tuxedo, while a lace gown that went only to her ankles adorned Emma’s body. No train or tail or whatever the hell they called it. It was perfect for her. It was strapless, and it accentuated her tits and ass—two of her assets I loved to ogle, even if Bryan hated me doing it.
She never realized how much I cared about her.
Today wasn’t about me, though. Today, I watched as my two friends promised each other forever. I watched as Rayne seethed, shooting daggers at the bride. And I watched as two people who deserved all of the happiness life had to offer, lost themselves to each other and forgot about everyone else. They belonged together.
They did.
And I would be damned if Rayne did anything else to make them, or anyone else, miserable.
I couldn’t understand why the raven haired beauty spewed hatred at Emma, as if it came as second nature to her. It seeped from her pores. Why? What had Emma ever done to her? Nothing.
My focus followed Rayne to ensure she didn’t do anything to ruin today. She was on the move. I tried to follow her while the small crowd of guests made their way to the dance floor, however, before I could take one step, a little old lady halted me. Recognition flared. I had seen her the night before at the rehearsal and then again at the dinner following, but other than that, her identity eluded me.
“Young man, this is a wedding, not a funeral.”
“P-Pardon me?” I stammered, flabbergasted. Who the hell was this woman?
“Oh my. Where are you from?”
It was the same reaction I had from several people. While I had lived in the States since my childhood, a slight British accent lingered. “U.S. by way of London. Could you repeat what you said?”
Patting my arm, she said, “You look like you are either going to commit murder, hide a body, or your best friend just died.”
“What?” I blinked, trying to wrap my head around what this little old woman said. “Who are you?” Clenching my fists, I hoped and prayed for patience while I at the same time demanded answers from her. It wasn’t her fault. The poor woman probably felt confused or maybe had one too many to drink, but
I couldn’t help my annoyance. I should be keeping an eye on Rayne, and this woman, prevented it with idle chit chat.
“Grace.”
“Pardon?”
“That’s my name. I’m Grace. I met Bryan when he flew in to see Emma one day. We had the pleasure of sitting next to each other on the plane. When he told me his story, I simply knew they would get married. So I put him on my bucket list and told him I would be here for the wedding. Imagine my delight when he actually remembered me and sent me an invitation. Do you know that I made my flight arrangements right after I opened the envelope? It’s true. They are such a lovely couple. My husband, Bert, would have thought so too. He might have been a gruff Navy man, but he was a closet romantic. I think you might be too.”
“And why would you think that?”
“I can tell. There is just something about you,” she answered me with a grin and a wink.
Shaking my head, I tried to clear it in order to process her side of this odd conversation, however, I could not stop myself from looking at this weird woman as if she had two heads. “Grace?” I stopped after that question. My head spun, and I was only able to really grasp one fact and hold onto it with both hands: her name.
“Are you slow, dear? Did you drink too much?” She patted my arm again, gazing up at me with what I could only describe as sympathy.
Slow? What the fuck was this woman saying? “Look...” What did she say her name was again? Apparently, I had let go of that factoid as soon as she asked about my mental capabilities.
“Grace.”
“Right. Grace. Look, Grace, I appreciate your concern—”
“I’m not concerned.”
“You’re not.”
“No.”
Only the manners that had been engrained into me as a child prevented me from rolling my eyes at this old broad, and the temptation to run my hand over my face in frustration had me once again clenching my fists at my sides. “You’re not concerned,” I repeated. Crap! I really did sound slow.
“No, I can tell your feelings run deep and your heart is in the right place.” Her voice became almost melodic as she giggled.
Had she noticed how much I wanted to put Rayne in her place? Or had she noticed how my eyes would periodically drift over to the bride in those moments my brain lost the battle to my heart? “They are,” was the only thing I could say because regardless of which one she was referencing, they were both true. As much as I wanted to wring Rayne’s neck, I still cared about Emma. Everything I did was to make sure she never had to stress about Rayne and her particular brand of hate ever again.
“Don’t worry. She has a lot to learn, but when Rayne finally figures it out, a new world will open for her, and you’ll be right there.”
“Maybe to kick her ass…uh pardon me.” My face started to burn scarlet all because I cussed in front of an old woman.
Waving her hand in the air, she said, “No apologies needed. Maybe she does need a kick in the ass. I heard what she’s been doing, but she doesn’t understand. Be gentle.” With that, she walked off, disappearing onto the crowded dance floor in the ballroom Bryan and Emma had rented for their reception.
It surprised me to hear that Grace knew what Rayne had been doing to Emma. Hate overflowed from Bryan’s sister. She’d called Emma broken, unworthy, ugly, liar, and a host of other names. Rayne did not like Emma because Emma was sick and usually used some sort of device to get her from point A to point B. No other reason. I knew there were people like that in the world. I mean hell, my sister Megan had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, and I had seen how people looked at her when she used a cane, but that didn’t make it right. Why did people act like they were lepers when they couldn’t control what happened to their bodies?
No, Rayne was a first rate bitch, and needed to be taught a lesson.
Chapter 2
Rayne
I did not want to be here. Correction. I loathed being here with every cell in my body.
Why? Why did my brother have to marry her? Bryan could have done so much better than Emma. She was different, broken. Who wanted a thirty year old who already used a walker? Not me. As far as I was concerned, those people could lock themselves away from normal society.
Most people would probably disagree with me, but who the fuck cared what others thought? Not me.
Since Bryan and Emma had found this all-consuming love, or whatever the hell anyone wanted to call it, I received flak from everyone, except my cousin Allen. He told me all about how Emma acted back in the day. My brother had been duped, marrying a complete slut without realizing it. She probably faked her illness so she didn’t have to work and could laze around at home.
Seriously, at her age—she claimed she was thirty—there is no way she already had to use a walker. Come on! Faker. Bitch. Probably lied about her age too. I hated her, and if I had my way, she and my brother would breakup and never see each other again.
But I didn’t get my way. They were married and I had to suck back my resentment and deal with this farce of a marriage. Nothing I did worked to separate them. If anything, it drove a wedge between Bryan and me, while it brought those two closer together. Plans failed, but that did not mean I was ready to give up.
The way to win may be through an unlikely ally.
Fucking asshole Chad. I knew he loved her. His eyes gave him away. I noticed how his gaze softened for her, and always followed Emma, even during that god-awful wedding on the beach she insisted on. Why, when she supposedly couldn’t walk in the sand?
When he wasn’t panting over her, he spied on me. His scowl told me he expected me to do something, which was laughable. I had a much better plan to get that conniving bitch away from my brother. During the wedding was too obvious.
I pretended not to notice when my parents’, Chad’s, and Bryan’s eyes fell on me when the Pastor asked, “If anyone has just cause why these two should not be bound together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.” Not my style. If I was going to do anything, it would not be in front of thirty wedding guests, some of whom I didn’t even know. I was classier than that.
No, if I was going to take Emma down, I wouldn’t make a public spectacle out of myself. Besides, if I tried anything today, I would come out on the losing side. Bryan would hate me, my parents would be angry, and I would make an enemy out of others.
I tried to convince Evan to help me, my brother’s ex-roommate from California. Since he never met Emma before flying out here for the wedding, I believed I could coerce him to my side. I failed.
Since I was a member of Bryan’s family, no matter how much Emma wanted to forget that fact, I had been invited to the rehearsal and dinner. I may not have been selected as one of the three bridal attendants, but that bitch could not keep me away. Last night, before the practice session began, I scanned the crowd and immediately spotted the person I wanted: Evan. I knew who he was because I had visited Bryan once in California and stayed at their house. And even if I hadn’t known, the group at the actual rehearsal had been tiny. He was easy to spot since he still had his hair cropped short—a carryover from his Army days—he stood taller than my brother, and he was built like a body builder. Delectable.
With short black hair that was high and tight, and shocking light brown eyes that appeared almost the color of honey, I had always found him intriguing. His eyes were set a little deep into his face and were slits, not wide and round like mine, but it was his body that made me drool. He was well over a foot taller than me with muscles that could probably snap my 5’3 frame in half. I wanted him. One night of hot sex, bodies sweating as they pressed against each other. However, no amount of seduction could get him into my bed. I even grabbed his dick right before the rehearsal and demanded, “Fuck me.”
He responded with the same thing he always did, “You’re Bryan’s sister, ergo, off limits.” It hadn’t been the first time I tried to coax him into bed.
If he didn’t want me, his loss. I would stop trying to convince h
im. Besides, I didn’t need him. Men pursued me, not the other way around.
That said, I really thought he would help me last night. Sidling up to him at the rehearsal dinner, I commented, “Can you believe Bryan would marry someone that acted more like an old woman? He’ll probably have to change her diapers. That is…unless she’s faking. What kind of scam do you think she’s running?”
What I expected and what I got for a reaction were completely different things. I thought he’d at least laugh with me, maybe tell a joke of his own at the bare minimum. He didn’t. Instead, his intense eyes glared down at me. It felt as if he were convicting me and my soul to eternal damnation with those eyes. “I heard you were being a spoiled brat, but I figured you would have grown up by now. Faking? Just so you know, there are diseases that can make a once perfectly healthy person into a—what you call—old woman. She has one. Look it up.” Stalking off, he didn’t give me a backwards glance and left me standing there, my face red with embarrassment and anger.
I knew Chad kept an eye on me last night to make sure I didn’t do anything. My plans to expose Emma for what she was included Evan, but maybe they didn’t have to. Maybe Chad could be my new stooge pigeon. The man, with his godlike muscles, blue eyes, and wavy hair that appeared as if it had trapped the rays of the sun—not that I was interested in him. Even if he wanted me, which I was pretty sure he didn’t, I wanted nothing to do with his holier-than-thou attitude. I could do better.
Men wrote me poems and painted my portrait. I didn’t need anyone who would rather harp on my faults and side with that Emma bitch, than to support me. I had plenty of men, and Chad was not necessary…except for my plan now that Evan had fallen by the wayside. He hated me and wished I would get a clue, but I wasn’t the naïve one. That title fell on Bryan, Chad, and Evan. How had Emma managed to wrap all three of them around her finger?
Redeemed: Book Two of the Love Seekers Series Page 1