Broken Dreams
Authors: Rissa Blakeley
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal
Rissa
Blakeley
Broken Dreams
BOOK ONE FROM THE SHATTERED LIVES SERIES
Broken Dreams (Shattered Lives, Book One)
Copyright © 2014 Rissa Blakeley
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living, dead, or undead is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
All art that is a part of the Shattered Lives series cannot be reproduced without written permission from the author, the cover art designer from Cover-It Designs, and vector artist from Gert Erasmus Photo Editing except in the case of promotions, critical articles, or reviews based on the author’s approval.
Table of Contents
Acknowledgments:
First, I want to thank my husband for all of his support, encouragement, and help throughout this out-of-the-blue, crazy dream of mine. Without him, I’m sure this would never have happened.
I want to thank The Girl. It’s not easy having an author as a parent. All the shushing, “Gimme a sec”, and “Can you take the dogs out? I’m in a moment” has been difficult. But I assure you that I appreciate every moment of patience that has been offered towards me.
To my family and friends, thank you for your support, as well! Some of you don’t understand this and think I’m just being crazy, as usual; some of you think it’s pretty awesome. I love you all, no matter what you think.
As for everyone who has helped me on this really messy journey…THANK YOU! There have been so many of you that I have messaged or texted or emailed. All my betas, my designer, my editor…you have been amazing dealing with my crazy behavior. I may piss you off once in a while but, surely, I’m too adorable to be angry at. Yes? Okay, maybe not.
And, of course, to my fans (I think I have more than one) and readers…THANK YOU times 1000. Without all of your words of encouragement, demands, likes, and shares, I would still be sitting in the dark with Henry and all of his nutty behavior. And that’s too scary to think about.
You all rock.
Broken Dreams
-August 2002-
Training Complex
East End, London, England
“Right jab! Left jab! Right! Left! Keep going you weak, useless pieces of shit!” Gunther screamed at the recruits. He stalked down the row of heavy bags in the white, brightly lit gym, examining each one of the recruits’ positioning and power behind their punches. Two things broke up the monotony of the sterile environment: the blue of the gym mats, and the recruits dressed in solid black.
Each recruit was required to dress the same…track pants and a fitted t-shirt…leaving no room for individuality. They were one and the same, machines training for a war that no one wanted to participate in, but didn’t have the choice to walk away. The only difference between them was their individual body structure. Out of the ten recruits that Gunther was training, there was only one female…Sophie Jackson.
Sophie was brought in at the same time as Liam. Like Sophie, all recruits were renamed once they were accepted into the program. She was blonde, tall, and physically strong. She and Liam hit it off right away, after he stood up for her against Roger, the program director. She appreciated Liam’s efforts, even though it caused him to get a beat down.
Sophie and Liam had been spending as much time as they could together since that day. Using their program-issued cell phones to communicate with one another, they would sneak into each other’s room in the middle of the night. There was no idle chatting during training -- silence was expected and demanded. You didn’t speak unless spoken to.
Sophie and Liam would text one another to meet up in the complex to do what teens do…chat about the goings on within their hellish environment and, of course, have sex. When Liam could get his hands on a bottle of booze, they would get shit-faced together, as well.
Gunther continued down the row of sweat-ridden, near vomiting fatigued recruits, correcting stances and shouting instructions. Liam was at the last bag, working hard to keep his nerves at bay, and trying to keep up the façade. Hearing Gunther’s heavy footsteps come closer to his spot left him out of sorts. The lights in the room highlighted every bead of sweat that was trickling down his face and dripping onto the blue mat beneath his bare feet.
Gunther abruptly stopped and stood in front of Liam, staring down at him with his arms crossed over his expansive chest. His lips were curled up into a wicked smirk.
He was commanded by Roger to be extra strict with Liam. He didn’t know the reason behind it, but he wasn’t going to ask any questions. Questioning the boss wouldn’t get you anywhere, except tied to a chair and served a beat down with a side of tasing. It happened to Gunther more times than he would care to admit, and he wasn't hungry for that again.
One particular beating that he would never forget happened when the recruits themselves were the ones forced to serve up the beating. Liam was amongst that group. Without a doubt, it was the most humiliating experience of his so-called life.
Gunther positioned himself in front of Liam’s bag and pushed his six-foot-five, two hundred and forty pound muscled frame into it. Liam, who was just under six feet tall and about one hundred and seventy-five pounds of lean mass, was staring back at him as he threw his instructed punches. He wasn’t going to show Gunther that he was intimidated in the least. It could have been because he was head-strong, or maybe he was just plain stupid.
“Harder! Make me move, you zero,” Gunther growled.
Liam unleashed the beast that was lurking inside, which was always close to the surface. He hit the bag with such force that he dislocated his right shoulder. There was a sickening pop, and he cried out in pain and fell to his knees. Bile rose in his throat. While he was trying to breathe through his excruciating pain, Gunther viciously pushed the bag into him, knocking him ass over tits.
“Get up!” Liam looked up at him with disgust. He’d spit in Gunther’s face if he knew he wouldn’t get another beating for it. There was no sympathy from Gunther. He leaned down into Liam’s face and jacked him up by the shirt collar. “I said get the fuck up,” he growled with grave intensity. Liam’s graying eyes met Gunther’s emerald green ones.
Liam struggled to get to his feet. He was out of breath, and the pain was radiating down his right arm with a lightning bolt intensity. He was full of anger and still in a near vomit level of pain.
“You need the clinic, Cock-up?” Liam just stared at Gunther, seething with hatred. “I asked you a fucking question, and I expect a bloody answer!” He was millimeters from Liam’s face. So close that he could examine Gunther's pores.
“Yes,” he croaked.
“What was that, lad? I seemed to not have heard you properly.”
“Yes, sir,” Liam said a little firmer, as his arm dangled at his side. Gunther’s sadistic laugh filled the room. Then he whistled to get the other recruits to stop the heavy bag training.
“Everyone…look!” They all turned and looked down the row at Liam, who was about to be humiliated yet again. Gunther viciously grabbed his dangling arm and pulled up on it. Liam nearly passed out and, instead of complying, he hit the mat again. The laughing continued. “Look at this weak lass. Look at him! Is this what you want to become? Weak like this cock-up -- little whiny Liam here?”
“No, sir!” the rest of the recruits yelled back. Liam’s jaw began to tremble from the pain. Sweat was pouring out of every pore in his body, running out of his pits and down his back, saturating his t-shirt. His vision was fading, and the sounds of Gunther's verbal abuse were becoming distant.
Sophie’s eyes filled with tears, seeing the boy who had saved her on many occasions in such horrific pain, physically and mentally. She let out a soft cry, and Liam heard it echo through his subconscious. The sound of her whimper was pulling at him, bringing him back from the brink of unconsciousness. It took every ounce of energy within him to look over at Sophie. She gave him a slight nod, acknowledging his pain. He knew that she cared for him, but she wasn’t allowed to show it at that moment.
Gunther pushed Liam away. “Gabriel! Take your cock-up of a roommate to the clinic. Once his arm is back in the socket, take him to the punishment room.” Sophie let out a choked sob after she realized Liam was going to get yet another brutal beating.
In a couple steps, Gunther was in front of her. “What’s wrong, little bird? Does your little lover boy being punished not suit your needs?” He ran his finger down her cheek and jawline. Then he yanked up on her chin with his fingertip, so she was looking directly into his eyes. She recoiled in fear. “Don’t worry. His John Thomas will still work when we’re finished.” He chuckled at his own joke.
“Leave her alone!” Liam shouted through the blinding pain as Gabriel helped him up. Gunther looked back at him and smirked. He knew the effect on Liam when it came to Sophie, which was why he touched her and spoke to her in that way in front of him.
“Or what? You going to fight me? That would be brill, yeah?” Gunther made it back to Liam in the blink of an eye. “I suggest you keep your bloody mouth shut,” he said as he jammed his finger into Liam’s chest.
“Fuck you,” Liam growled. Gunther hauled off and decked him in the face, sending him crashing to the mat yet again.
“
That,
my friend, was just the beginning. Gabriel, take him now before I make him true dead!” Gabriel grabbed him by the uninjured arm and dragged him to his feet yet again. Liam’s lip was split wide open, and blood was rushing down his chin.
As soon as they got out of the door, Gabriel let go of him. “Mate, you need to keep your bloody mouth shut!”
“I don’t give a fuck anymore.” Liam wiped the blood off of his chin with the back of his good hand.
“You’re going to when he hospitalizes you again!”
Gabriel guided a sweaty, pain-filled Liam down into the clinic to see the nurse. As soon as the nurse saw what condition he was in, she called the doctor up from the lab to have him put Liam’s arm back in the socket.
Gabriel shuddered as he stood outside the door of the clinic, feeling Liam’s intense scream of agony. It filled the surrounding area. Minutes later, he staggered out with gauze pressed to his lip and sweat still pouring down his face.
“Jesus Christ.” Gabriel shook his head. “You ready, mate? Did she give you a vial, as well?” Liam nodded. “God, I hate to do this to you. I hate taking you here nearly every fucking week. You still have the bruises from
last
week.”
“Whatever. Let’s get it over with.” A reluctant Gabriel led him to the punishment room.
After Gabriel shoved open the heavy metal, narrow-windowed door, Liam walked in without pause and sat down in the cold metal folding chair that was strategically positioned in front of a mirror. Gabriel left the room and went back to the gym to let Gunther know he was ready. Gunther had already phoned ahead to Roger to inform him of the happenings in the gym, and was praised for his swift attention to things.
Minutes later, Gunther swaggered in with plastic zip ties and bandanas in hand.
“You know the drill. Hands behind your back,” Gunther barked as he yanked Liam’s hands back and viciously twisted his arms behind the chair. Liam hissed. “Still hurt? Good. Brace yourself for more.” Gunther smiled with sadistic delight.
He pulled the zip tie around Liam’s wrists so tight that it bit into them. Then he grabbed each ankle and zip tied them so taut to the outside of the chair legs that they drew blood. The marks from the prior week were just starting to heal.
Gunther chuckled as he waved the bandana in front of Liam’s face. “Lights out, motherfucker.” He wrapped the bandana around his head and tied it so tight, he saw stars in the familiar darkness. “Got anything to say?”
“Do I ever?” Liam snarled. That pissed Gunther off even more so he backhanded him, throwing Liam’s head to the side.
“Maybe this will help keep your vile mouth shut.” Gunther tied a second bandana around Liam’s mouth, gagging him.
Liam heard Gunther’s heavy footsteps move away from him. Then he heard the door open and close with a quiet click. They always did that. They would leave him for an extended period of time in that position to wear him down. Liam learned long ago to stare, albeit blindly, straight ahead into the two-way mirror. He knew Roger was behind there watching, which was reason enough for Liam to not show any signs of fear or weakness.
***
“Look at him. So stoic.” Roger’s laugh was heartless as he watched Liam stare into the mirror with unfeigned strength. His trimmed, muscled body jittered with excitement. He loved that part of his job, especially when it was Liam’s turn. Nothing made it more worth it than moments like those.
“Roger, don’t do this to him again. You just did this last week. You’re going to kill him at some point!” Roger turned and looked at the slight woman who was scared out of her mind. His six-foot-two lean body towered over all of her five feet. He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his piercing blue eyes at her. The lighting grabbed his salt-and pepper hair.
“I surely hope you are not telling me what to do because you know precisely where that gets you.” She looked down and away from his malevolent stare, and her stringy brown hair fell, covering her face.
“No-no, sir. I’m not. I’m just...” She stopped speaking when he ran his long forefinger down her jaw and gently picked her chin up to face him. Her hollow, lifeless eyes were swimming with tears, and fear rushed through her small, boney body. His upper lip lifted into a dark snarl.
“That’s what I thought, you whore.” He leaned in and crammed his tongue into her mouth. He groaned as he slammed her against the wall, moving his arousal into her lower abdomen. “Bloody hell! Be ready for me when I come back because I’m going to take you right in here. I hope you enjoy the show, my little bird.” She shuddered in disgust. Roger’s sinister laugh echoed as he left her alone behind the two-way mirror to watch Liam’s next beating.
As soon as she saw Roger enter the room where Liam was, the uncontrollable sobs broke out of her throat. She held her shaking hands over her mouth, trying to hold them in. She was unsuccessful.
Roger stepped in front of Liam and he hauled off and punched him in the jaw. She screamed as the blood exploded from Liam’s mouth through the gag.
“Oh, god…no.” From behind the glass, she heard Roger screaming at Liam. She recoiled when she saw Roger’s fists connecting with his face and body, time and time again, with such ferociousness that Liam had passed out. His head was lolling around, blood was running down his chin, and the bruises were already appearing on his pale face. She couldn’t stand to watch anymore, but she had to make sure he didn’t kill him, even though there was nothing that she could do to stop the assault.
After Roger was satisfied with working Liam over with his fists, he waved Gunther in and he woke Liam up with a large glass of ice cold water. Gunther then tore Liam’s shirt open to expose his chest, as Roger pulled the taser gun off of his belt. The dark smirk came back as he fired it into Liam’s chest. She saw him say something to Liam, then he pulled the trigger again.
Liam’s muscles violently contracted, and he screamed in pain for the first time during the punishment session. Roger hit the trigger again, just to drive his point home. Once Liam’s convulsions ceased, Gunther tore out the taser probes and cut him out of the chair. He then dragged Liam out of the punishment room, still blindfolded, gagged, and on the brink of unconsciousness.
Roger walked back to the room on the other side of the mirror with a swagger that only he could pull off. It disgusted her. She trembled in fear, knowing what was about to happen.
“Ready, my little bird? Because I
so
fucking am.” He pulled off his sweaty t-shirt, exposing his muscled chest, and unbuckled his belt. With an arrogant smirk, he quickly dropped his pants. Every inch of hate that she felt for him sprung free. He smiled as he saw her fear and hate run rampant across her face.
Knowing the drill, she turned around and laid prone over the edge of the cold metal table, shaking all over. “That’s my girl,” he droned as he lifted her shift dress and tore off her undergarments, dropping them to the floor like trash. She held her hands over her mouth so that the sobs wouldn’t escape. She knew that if he heard her cry, she would be beaten like Liam had been a few short minutes ago.