Every hardened inch of his cut frame presses into me. It’s a solid, steady weight that elicits feelings I didn’t think I was still capable of after years of watching and experiencing unfettered violence.
Aside from beatings, the odd whipping, and Gael’s physician, no one has touched me in years. Not a single time when I sobbed, begged or pleaded. Nor when I pondered whether it would be better to die than continue living.
I survived alone.
Until now.
“I swear, I’m usually more of a gentleman.” His formal accent rolls over me again. “Maybe next time.”
Releasing me, Blaine reaches behind his back. I hear the van door click open, but the sluggish realisation comes too late for me to react. I’m spun around then unceremoniously shoved outside.
“Apologies again!” he shouts.
“Argh!”
Thin air wraps around me, failing to slow my rapid plummet. Bracing myself for a hard collision, the impact feels minimal when I smack into a relatively soft surface.
Breath swooshes out of me, cutting off my ability to yell his name. A split second later, my balled-up sweatshirt lands on top of me.
Sprawled out on what feels like a sandy bank, I have to watch that son of a bitch sweep his devilishly dark gaze over my body.
“See you very soon, sweetheart.” His grin reveals a single dimple on his unscarred cheek. “I’ll buy you that drink.”
“Stop! Wait!”
“Don’t forget whose praises you’re singing.”
His lips pucker up to blow me a kiss. Then the slamming doors swallow him. When the van takes off, it leaves a thick sand cloud behind.
Staring after them, I watch until it vanishes from sight. I’m on what appears to be a deserted road, littered with rocks and surrounded by sun-scorched land and distant farms.
“What the fuck?” I scream into the nothingness.
Part of me wonders if I’ll wake up to find myself being driven to my next fight. Or perhaps back at the infamous Gael estate, preparing for another punishment in my constantly monitored room.
No matter how many times I squeeze my eyes shut and reopen them to blazing sunshine, the scene remains unchanged. Those insane people rescued me then… What? Dumped me?
My fingers clench around the flip phone still clutched in my hand.You have a phone call to make.Blaine’s self-assured drawl fills my mind as I wrestle myself upright and flick the phone open.
It takes me a moment to remember how to use the keypad. I’m hardly green at thirty-one years old so this isn’t my first Nokia. After fumbling for a second, I locate the contacts menu.
There’s just one.
My stomach churns in shock, loss… and hope.
Warner Mead — Sabre Security.
CHAPTER 3
WARNER
COEXIST – HAVE MERCY
“Useless fucking thing!”
Overwhelmed by frustration, I battle my new prosthetic to click the socket into place over the liner. It’s a newer model my specialist sold me on, but it’s always a learning curve when I get a new leg.
You’d have thought that after almost ten years, I’d be a master at wielding a prosthetic. I’ve gotten through enough of them while adapting to life as an amputee after the accident.
