‘I will always take care of you’
My pain started when I was just ten years old, it was the day my mom got that dreaded phone call. Life has never been the same….
‘I will always protect you’
I am all kinds of broken….
I have known Logan White since forever, he is my brothers best friend and my secret protector. I used to have nightmares that drew me into a dark place and when the nightmares got too much, Logan was by my side. The nightmares are few and far between now, but my life is centered around the tragedy of my past.
Logan is the definition of ‘man whore’, with girls lining around the block to drop their panties at the click of his fingers. But after an unexpected moment things change. Now Logan is somebody else; hot, sexy and so damn delicious and I want to know him. Desperately.
But then there is Angel Walker who is far from the angelic nature of his name, with eyes so hypnotic that I lose my inhabitation’s just by staring into them. But he is a broken man who just screams sin. He doesn’t want to protect me or care for me, He just wants me.
Do I want the man who can cut through all of my pain or the man who could cause me more?
Fists will fly, hearts will shatter and desire will be fueled.
Ten white petals…
One yellow centre…
One…thud. Two…thud. Three…thud.
I can feel hands around my throat, my breathing becoming shallow as I try to scream on the inside, not knowing if my own nightmare filled with the demons of my past will kill me while I sleep. My heartbeat roaring as it pounded relentlessly, leaving a ringing sensation in my ears. The smell of antiseptic so potent against my nostrils suddenly hit me, it was so strong that I could taste it in the back of my throat. The pressure around my neck slackened enough for me to get my bearings, I was back on the bridge again, pinned to the wooden slabs by someone or something I couldn’t see nor describe. There was no where to go, I was trapped on the bridge that lead to no where, keeping me forever in the darkness, never to see the light again.
I could taste the fear in my throat drowning out the antiseptic, I could feel my fear pouring into my gut as my body absorbed it, it was in my bones, in my soul. The fear in the air caused me to look back at demon above me, a black and smoky silhouette figure towering over my tiny frame, I could never make out who or what the demon was, but I knew I should fear it.
The grip around my neck tightened once more, my hands trying to reach for anything to help free me, but there was nothing, there was always nothing. I could see the bridge clearly but I could never feel it against my skin, just the subconscious pressure of it against my back, a mixture of pressure and the feeling of floating.
“Stop, please. No!” I wanted to scream but my vision was becoming blurred as my head swam with weightlessness. Images projected against the dark shadow of the demon above me, a car severely damaged, flashing blue lights and screaming, organized chaos.
I thought I was going to die, I was ready just to let go, but I never died in my nightmares, I just hung on the edge, the demon making me remember.
Suddenly the nightmare slowly started to release me, the twisted dark depths of my past slowly fading into a painful reminder of what was cruelly taken, what I would never get back.
Thud…my heart slamming against my chest.
Thud…my throat constricting tightly.
Thud…my lungs burning with every breath.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
My lids were heavy, so heavy that I didn’t think I could open my eyes.
“Come back to me” A familiar soothing voice wrapped around around my mind, trying to release me of my own painful imprisonment.
I tried desperately to speak to the voice, wanting them to pull me out from the torture that held me captive within my own mind, my tongue heavy and my mouth dry. My skin becoming saturated with sweat, my toes curling as if in pain, my heart heavy with unrelenting sadness.
The light was almost to much to bare as I finally managed to open my eyes, squinting as the light penetrated my pupils, burning right through me. There was a figure above me once more, but it wasn’t dark and twisted like the demons in my nightmares, it was home. I’m home.
Meet S.K. Hartley
S.K. Hartley is a mother, wife, avid reader and writer based in the not so sunny North West of England. You can find her either glued to her computer desk, in the library (yes they still exist) or floating around her favorite authors book signings!
What sort of except do authors usually post? IE. sex scenes, love scenes….