Redeemed
Authors: Becca Jameson
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Published By: Taliesin Publishing, LLC, PO Box 155, Sanford, MI 48657
Redeemed
Copyright © 2014 by Becca Jameson
Digital Release: March 2014
ISBN: 978-1-62916-039-9
Cover Artist: James Caldwell
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Table Of Contents
Ashley Rice is broken. After being rescued from the clutches of a crazed shifter who kept her drugged and malleable for four years, she is recovering with the help of her family and psychologist.
Evan Harmon is the PI who rescued her. At the moment of escape, he knew she was his mate. He kept that detail to himself to allow her time to heal.
Six months later he is at his breaking point and attends a dinner at her brother’s house where he knows their Fated relationship will be instantly revealed.
But Ashley has a long road ahead of her. She is reluctant to enter into a relationship with anyone, including the man she knows in her soul is her mate. She doesn’t believe she is worthy and she needs more time.
In addition the man who held Ashley is still on the loose. She lives a life in fear of being found and dragged back into an existence she can no longer fathom.
And there are bigger concerns. Who provided her abductor with the drugs and is the entire event a larger conspiracy?
When neither Ashley nor Evan can stand their separation any longer and realization dawns that mating isn’t something that can be denied, Ashley and Evan enter into a constrained relationship that quickly explodes into a claiming neither of them expected.
But Evan has secrets, and Ashley suffers from agoraphobia. Can the two of them climb these hurdles and come out together?
To Lisa Dugan for all her hard work getting my books ready for print! You are the best cheerleader a girl could have!
Blood.
So much blood.
As though she were floating in the room, separated from her body, Ashley watched the blood drip off her fingers and land on the tile floor. Each plop rang in her ears, amplified by the silence now reigning in her studio.
Moments ago the house had been filled with her screams, the loud pulsing of her own blood as it flowed through her ears, the grunts and groans of her attacker as he’d attempted to dominate her with his strength.
Now it was over. Silence. And blood.
She heaved for breath as her hands began to shake. She willed herself to release the knife, and it clamored to the floor, bouncing twice with a ping that made her flinch.
Oh God, I killed him
.
The reality of her actions sank in as she stood rooted to the spot, unable to move an inch. Her legs wouldn’t respond to any of the messages her brain fired at them.
She stared in disbelief at the man on the ground at her feet. Damon Parkfield. She felt not one ounce of remorse for her actions. Should she?
Concern for the repercussions yes, but not sadness or sorrow. If she had to go to jail for the rest of her life for this killing, so be it.
Sirens wailed outside. She jerked her head up at the sound. The sirens got louder and multiplied.
She narrowed her gaze, knowing instinctively they were coming for her.
Damon entered her home less than half an hour ago. The cops were fast.
His downfall: she’d been anticipating him. She’d known he would come for her.
No longer the weak girl he’d held captive for four years, Ashley’s mind had cleared. Her ability to think rationally had returned in bits and pieces over the past months. She’d visualized every imaginable scenario of this moment.
She’d known he would come eventually. Never for a second had she doubted his tenaciousness. Neither a restraining order nor the passage of time would keep Damon from seeking revenge.
“You’re mine, bitch.”
His words still rang in her head. But Ashley’s head was no longer floating in the clouds as she had been for the four years he’d tortured her. Nothing he could say would have altered the course of her actions.
What he didn’t consider was her determination not to be taken by him a second time outweighed his resolve to abduct her and hold her under his thumb once again.
The sound of police cars surrounding the house increased. Tires squealed and she closed her eyes, picturing the red and blue flashing lights spinning on the tops of several cruisers, skidding up to the curb, heedless of their haphazard parking jobs.
Doors slammed and she jerked again, her feet still rooted to the spot.
She opened her eyes and returned her gaze to the man on the floor, the bastard who’d stolen so much from her. All that would end now. No matter what happened next, she would never have to worry about Damon Parkfield again. And neither would any other woman…
Six months earlier
A door slammed. Ashley slunk into the corner, covering her head with her arms. She couldn’t get small enough, couldn’t block out the sound of footsteps as they stomped to the basement, couldn’t squeeze her eyes tight enough to keep out the light of day.
“You, bitch.” Damon’s voice barreled down the stairs and dispersed into every crack and crevasse in the damp space, seeping into the ancient beige couch she hovered behind as though the torn and unraveling upholstery soaked up each booming bellow and stored them to torment her later.
Ashley ducked her head farther, hoping to become invisible, or at least protect her skull from his wrath. Her bare foot slipped on the cracked concrete floor and she struggled to tuck it back under her thin white cotton nightgown.
“Where are you, Ash-ley?” He enunciated her name with the two distinct mocking syllables that grated on her nerves. He stepped closer, his shuffling feet approaching from the base of the steps.
She knew exactly where he stood without looking. She could hear his breaths as they expelled in rapid succession.
“Ah, ain’t that cute?” He ducked down beside her as soon as he came around the couch, the sound of his voice reaching her ears from way too close. “Did I scare you?” His words dripped with sarcasm and sugar.
When he set a gentle hand on her shoulder and stroked her bare skin, she withheld a flinch. His tone and his touch were a lie. Even though he petted her seemingly reverently as someone would caress a puppy, his hand was rigid, his fingers inflexible.
And then he struck—as she’d known he would. In the blink of an eye, she went from hovering in the corner to standing on her tiptoes with her back to the dank concrete wall of the unfinished basement.
Damon grabbed her wrists and yanked her upright by the arms until he held them high above her head, forcing her to suck in a breath and wait for the next blow.
There was always a next blow.
“Look at me, you whore.” He spat the words across her forehead as she attempted to hide behind the locks of her lank unkempt hair that hung more like dreadlocks in front of her face than the gorgeous tresses she’d always been praised for in her youth.
Ashley lifted her gaze. To do otherwise would only further her detriment.
Whatever she’d done this time had royally pissed him off. It wasn’t a difficult task.
“You called your fucking parents from the landline? What the hell were you thinking?”
Oh shit. How had he found that out? She swallowed, but her mouth was so dry she only managed to get her tongue stuck to the roof. “I’m sorry, Sir. I—”
“Do you realize what this means? Do you?” His voice rose as he screamed. “Now we have to move again. I don’t want those damn pack members of yours meddling in our business. You’re mine. My mate. And you’ll damn well do as I say.” He tucked one of her wrists under the other and gripped them both with one hand. And then he slapped her hard across the face with his free hand.
The instant sting burned deep in her jaw. It wasn’t the first time he’d hit her face, but he didn’t do so often, so it surprised her. Before she could inhale her next breath, he slapped her again. This time her lip cracked and blood trickled into her mouth, the metallic taste making her gag.
Jerking her wrists with one hand, Damon hauled her body around the worn couch and sat. Ashley whimpered. She hated making any sound when he acted like this, but she couldn’t help it. Her head spun from the two blows, her brain muddled from slamming into her skull.
Damon yanked her across his lap, her belly landing so hard against his thighs the wind was knocked out of her. Her face slammed into the side of his shin and her feet flung out from under her to flail in the air, unable to keep purchase on the damp floor.
No. Oh God, no
.
Damon still held her wrists together, forcing her arms toward the floor.
Blood dripped from her broken lip and mixed with the tears of fear running down to her chin as she bucked her head.
It was no use. She had no strength to fight him. Damon was twice her size and whatever he was drugging her with zapped all the energy from her body.
This time he went for her buttock—his favorite. He whipped her nightgown up around her waist, exposing her naked ass to the air. Before one breath and the next, he jabbed the needle she’d grown accustomed to into the waning flesh of her butt and emptied the contents of the syringe into her battered body.
Ashley had no idea what he was drugging her with, but it worked. The fight deserted her body and she went limp against his legs. Drool ran from her mouth and she watched as pink drips landed on the concrete, a mixed of her blood, tears, and saliva.
Limp like a rag doll, she could do nothing as Damon stood and set her broken body on the couch. He didn’t bother to pull her nightgown down over her exposed rump. And she didn’t have the energy to do so herself.
She hadn’t been given panties or a bra in months. The worn white cotton sleeveless nightie was her only clothing.
Her eyes grew heavier by the second as she watched him scamper around the room, gathering up items and stuffing them in a box. He muttered under his breath about how much trouble she was. “Fucking cunt. Why did I bother? The bitch can’t do anything right. Can’t even get pregnant and bear me some offspring. What’s the matter with your goddamn female parts anyway, bitch?” He turned toward her.
She widened her heavy eyes. Held her breath. Thanked God she hadn’t gotten pregnant any of the times he’d raped her. Even his wrath at her infertility was better than bringing a baby into this world to be tortured by this madman.
His voice rose as he spoke. “If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I’ll slit the throats of every member of your family. Ya hear? That’ll cut down on the chatting. You aren’t to contact anyone without my permission. No one. If you can behave yourself and do as you’re told, you might earn some privileges. But as long as I have to keep punishing you for your stupidity, you will find yourself locked in the cellar with not so much as a book to read for entertainment.”