Copyright
©
2014 by Angela Page
All rights reserved
Cover Design by MGCoverDesign,
www.mgbookcoversanddesigns.com
Formatting by Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing,
www.unforeseenediting.com
Editing by Paige Maroney Smith
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual personas, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.
For Mature Audiences Only 18+
Please note this novel contains strong language, sexual situations and abusive situations.
For all the women who suffer from domestic violence
Let your voice be heard
Help is always out there
January 2014
When I made the call to my brother Jeremy, I heard the pained sound in his voice as I told him about Emily’s car accident just minutes earlier. I watched as they loaded the love of his life into the ambulance. The gutted feeling of not knowing the outcome, but fearing the loss of your other half. My other half hasn’t been mine for years, but yet she still holds a piece of my heart.
I run through the halls of Mass General Hospital, trying to remain calm as I attempt to find out any information about Sue and Emily. It’s not easy when you have your family in the waiting room of the ER thinking the worst, and nobody will give you an ounce of help, even when you are in uniform.
My feet can’t keep up with my racing heart until I walk into one of the two hospital rooms I need to be in. The one where the girl who’s held a piece of my heart for all these years is in front of me.
My heart shatters again as she’s lying there in Dave’s arms, their hands clutching her swollen belly. The life I should have had. The family and future I threw away when I thought I was doing the right thing for her.
Sue is happy with Dave, and the baby will bond them forever. She’ll never be mine again.
Why is it so fuckin’ real now?
I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve asked that question since they got together months ago.
Turning away from the room, I wander the halls, trying to keep myself from losing it. I slam my hands against the swinging door toward the waiting room, except it stops midway, and I hear a woman’s voice on the other side spouting profanities left and right.
I push the door ajar, slower this time, peeking around to see a petite brunette staring back at me. She’s holding her shoulder as her eyes shoot daggers up at me. When my eyes meet hers, I extend my hand, offering her some help getting up. She swats it away and rises to her feet on her own.
Her shoulder is in a sling, her finger is in a brace, and her nose is black and blue. This should raise red flags for me. I’m a cop. I should see these things as questionable, especially for a girl.
I still haven’t said a word to her. The beauty behind her injuries mesmerizes me. My gaze drops from her face, and I slowly take all of her in.
Her clothes pique my curiosity. She’s wearing every color imaginable, pink and black striped knee-high socks over fishnet stockings and bike shorts under what can only be described as adult leopard print underwear. What is up with her outfit? Does she not realize it’s winter outside? Although, it is kinda hot in a freaky way.
She speaks before I do. “Are you trying to lengthen my hospital stay? I’d really like to get the hell out of here and not see what other injuries I can add to my list tonight.”
Fuckin’ A. Who is this girl?
Better yet, how does a girl with more attitude than size end up with injuries like this?
Giving me an annoyed look, she tries to push by me with her one good arm. “Do you mind? I can’t get by if you’re blocking the exit. I’ve got places to go, so move it or lose it.”
As I step off to the side and let her pass, my head turns to watch her walk toward another section of the hospital. Catching the back of her shirt, I notice the writing.
C-Naughties
.
What the hell is a C-Naughtie? And, why the hell am I still speechless?
I’ve been running from my past for nearly three years. I’m not saying I had it bad growing up, quite the opposite, actually. I grew up in Connecticut about an hour from New York City. You can call my family upper middle class, but that’s not what I’ve been running from. No, I’m the one who made a piss-poor decision when I chose the last guy I dated.
I’ve finally started over. I’ve found my footing here in Massachusetts. I have a group of roommates whom I call my sisters. They will fight for me and back me up no matter what. They don’t go by the names “Decker in the Jaw”, “Juicy Lucy”, and” Rose from the Dead” just for fun. Those are their fighting names. Their alter egos, so to speak.
I go by the name “Sammy Sweet Cheeks.” You’ll understand later.
Why is it when the phone call came in a few days ago, letting me know my one fear in the world could threaten to find me again, did I wonder if my girls would be enough to keep me safe? Fight all they want, this was a different beast to go up against.
He tried to kill me once. He most certainly will try again. This has been my fear for so long.
Being in the hospital brings back some painful memories. Memories I don’t care to have cross my mind anymore. Memories of what he did to me on that dreadful night years ago. Running my hands over my neck, I recall gasping for what almost was my last breath as he choked the life out of me with just one hand.
You stupid fuckin’ bitch! I hope you enjoy the feeling of my hands wrapped around your neck because it’s the last thing you’re ever going to feel as I kill you slowly.
Fingers snapping in front of my face bring me out of my horrid memory. My eyes shoot open, and I cringe in horror and suddenly feel nauseous. I quickly assess my surroundings, noticing Kim standing next to me. Stretching out to run her hands over my shoulders, she says, “Hey, are you all right? You look a little peaked. Another flashback?”