Freeing Her (41 page)

If you like your romances light and sweet,
this is NOT for you. This is a tough and gritty story of
heartbreak, rejection, and hard love. You’ve been warned.

Life isn’t easy.

Nor is it fair.

And you don’t get to choose who you fall in
love with.

Sometimes love chooses you.

Skylina...Her story is not pretty. Discarded
like trash by her father. Forced into prostitution by her mother.
Used and abused, she learns to cope. And survives. Because she has
to. What other choice is there?

Ryder...His story is every bit as ugly.
Beaten and left for dead. A star whose light was extinguished long
before it should have been. Now a he’s drug addict who wrestles
with the demons that try to destroy him.

Two broken people...

Extraordinary circumstances...

Pasts that could tear them apart.

And now for an excerpt
from
Dirty Nights
...

When I unlock the door, I
head to the bathroom to brush my teeth and take a shower. The hot
water soothes and calms me after a long night of dancing. I wrap
the towel around me and walk to the bedroom, in search of a
T-shirt.

“
You shouldn’t dance like
that for strangers.”

“
AAAHH!” I scream. The
hooded stranger is sitting on my bed, feet stretched out and
crossed at the ankles.

“
Drop that towel,
Skylina.” I’d know that voice anywhere.

“
Not until you take that
hood off.” He reaches up and tugs it off. “When did you find
out?”

“
The same time I found out
you’re also a fucking paid whore. That you sell yourself to other
men.” His voice is low, but hard.

His words bite much deeper
and hurt far worse than anything has ever hurt me before. Worse
than when my dad walked out of my life and abandoned me. Worse than
when my mom sold me to Mikey. And greater than any physical punch
anyone ever landed on me.

My fists clutch the towel
to me and I hang my head in shame. Tears instantly blur my vision
and the urge to get out of here overwhelms me. But my clothes are
in the bedroom and he’s next to the dresser where they’re
stored.

“
Are you deaf? I told you
to drop the towel.” His voice is like vinegar to my
wounds.

I back out of the room,
away from him. My brain tumbles with thoughts of what to do, where
to go. My coat … it’s in the living room, but my shoes are in the
bathroom. I can make do with them and figure something out
later.

“
Skylina,” he calls out,
“I’m paying you. Is my money not good enough for you?”

Paying me? What is he
talking about? I don’t care to find out because every one of his
words is like a razor blade slicing up my heart and soul and I
can’t bear for them to be sliced any more. I stumble into the
bathroom, and attempt to push my feet into my shoes, but they
aren’t cooperating. When I try to run to the living room, I trip
and fall, letting go of the towel as my hands smack the floor. My
palms sting like fire and as I lie there, I see a pair of feet in
my line of vision.

“
You’re a kept woman,
Skylina. Where are you going?” His tone is so scathing it makes me
cringe.

I know I must escape from
here … get away because his words make me feel dirty … so much
dirtier than I already am. And it’s making me sick to my stomach. I
scramble to my hands and knees and crawl to my coat. Shoving my
hands through the sleeves, I somehow manage to get it on. But I
can’t button it because my hands are trembling so much. With one
shoe on and one off, coat unbuttoned, I run out the door. Tripping
down the steps, I twist my ankle and fall the last three, slamming
onto the floor and bruising my knees. My vision is so blurred from
my tears, I can’t see.

Bands of steel wrap around
my torso and lift me. He carries me back to that horrible place
from which I want to flee. When he gets inside, he slams the door
behind us and drops me on the couch. He returns with some tissues
and removes the one shoe I’m wearing. Then he examines my ankle,
which is already swelling. I realize then, that I’ve ruined my
chance for the audition the next day and a new flood of tears
bursts through my lids.

His hands start tugging
off my coat and then I start to fight. My fists fly out at him and
I want to punch and hurt him for saying those things to
me.

“
Leave me alone! Don’t
touch me! Haven’t you humiliated me enough? Now you want me naked
as well?” My chest heaves from the exertion of each breath and my
hands are fisted as though I’m ready to strike again.

“
I only want to help you
change into these.” He holds up a pair of sweats in his
hands.

When I see what he has, it
brings on another round of tears.

“
Come on, Skylina, let me
help.”

I give no resistance as he
takes off my coat and puts the sweats on me. Then he pulls me onto
his lap where I sob my heart out. When they eventually give way to
hiccups, he asks how my ankle is.

“
It’s ruined
me.”

“
Ruined you? How
so?”

“
I was supposed to
audition for a dance production tomorrow.” Hiccup … hiccup. “My
friend went through a whole lot of trouble to help me and now I
won’t be able to dance.”

“
Hmm. Maybe you will. I
can wrap it for you. I know a lot about ankle injuries.”

I rub my face with my
sleeve, drying the tears. I move to get up but his arms tighten
around me.

“
I’m not letting you up,
Skylina.”

I lift my eyes to his and
try to figure him out. I see nothing in them to give him
away.

“
What do you want from me,
Ryder?”

“
The truth.”

Gritting my teeth, I say,
“You already know the truth. You said it yourself. I’m a fucking
paid whore and I sell myself to other men. Oh, and while we’re on
the subject, I’m a sleazy private dancer, too. I’m a slut, Ryder. A
filthy dirty slut. My mom’s a drug addict who sold me to her pimp
when I was sixteen. I’ve been used, abused and raped. When I turned
eighteen, I found someone who thought I was worth something.” A
bitter laugh rushes out of me. “A better pimp if you will, who
treated me with a bit of decency.” No one knows this. No one. Why
am I telling him this? I guess it’s because none of it matters
anymore. I always had some small element of pride in myself. Maybe
it was because I was forced to do what I do. But he’s reduced me to
nothing … stripped me bare so I don’t even have that tiny bit of
pride any more. “I’ve taken care of my mom since then. What else do
you want to know? Do I like what I do? No. I despise myself for it.
Every ferking day. And you just drove that point home. Like a damn
knife to my heart. Why don’t I quit? What else can I do to keep my
mom off the street and her drug habit paid for? I can’t go to
school. I can’t wait tables. It doesn’t pay enough. So now you
know. Can I get up and leave now?” I’ve finally run out of steam.
My voice sounds dull and lifeless even to my ears.

I’m not aware tears are
flowing again until he takes my face in his hands and wipes them
away. He stands, still holding me and puts me in bed. Then he lies
down behind me and pulls me close to him. I don’t want to like
being next to him. I don’t want to like the way he smells when he
curls behind me and tucks my head under his chin. I want to hate
him. But I don’t. God help me I don’t.

About the
Author

A.M. Hargrove is the
romance author of the Edge Series (
Edge of
Disaster, Shattered Edge
and
Kissing Fire
),
Exquisite Betrayal, Dirty Nights
(which
is also available
as a serial novella published under the pen name of Emerson St.
Clair)
,
and the
romantic suspense companion novels
Tragically Flawed
(Tragic 1)
and
Tragic Desires
(Tragic 2). She is also the author of the young adult
paranormal/sci-fi The Guardians of Vesturon Series
(
Survival, Resurrection, Determinant,
reEmergent
and
Beginnings
) and the adult spin off
novels
Dark Waltz
and
Death
Waltz (release date late 2014). She divides her time between
the mountains of North Carolina and the upstate of South Carolina
where she pursues her dream career of writing. Her family considers
her crazy, her friends will agree, but she’s always game for some
fun times. If she could change anything in the world, she would
make chocolate and ice cream a part of the USDA food
groups.

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