Retribution (Lost Souls 1)

By Amy Thompson

Regan Edison has just moved from California, to enter her first year at Georgia Liberty College, the place where jacked up Chevy trucks and hunting are a way of life. Regan hopes to start a new life for herself and she thinks that Georgia is just the place to do it. That is until she meets an unexpected stranger.

Colter Hayes is a member of the Collectors, a group of wrongfully punished lost souls. Colter and the rest of his team, Finn, Kaiden and Devon, work for the Requiem Council who pass judgment on those souls that are neither tagged for Heaven nor Hell. The Council has charged the Collectors with finding the lost in exchange for a chance at redemption.

When an ex-councilmember known to pass Retribution on lost souls sets his sights on Regan, the Requiem Council dispatches the Collectors to Georgia to work as protectors for Regan. The Collectors must fight to save Regan from a fate they know all too well, but can they work to earn back their chance at redemption or are their fates sealed forever?

Who is meant for Heaven?
Who is meant for Hell?
And who is just lost?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amy Thompson
• Release date: Jun 18, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301324163

Book preview

Retribution

Lost Souls #1

Amy Thompson

Copyright © 2013 Amy Thompson

Smashwords Edition

Published by: Thompson Publishing

ISBN: 0615734847 (ISBN13: 9780615734842)

All rights reserved.

This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.

This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events; to real people, living or dead; or to real locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Names, places, characters, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and their resemblance, if any, to real-life counterparts is entirely coincidental.

Edited by: Jennifer Nunez

Formatted by: Heather Adkins at CyberWitch Press

Cover design by: Stephanie Mooney at Mooney Designs

The author recognizes the following brand names, songs, movies or trademarks:

Belle and Beauty and the Beast, Camaro, Carhartt, Chevrolet, Dockers, Ford, Frisbee, Google, Gone with the Wind, iPod, Jason Aldean, John Deere, Julia Roberts, Law and Order, Legally Blonde, Levi, Mitsubishi Galant, Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia, Playboy, Pretty Women, Reese Witherspoon, Rhett Butler, Scarlett O’Hara, Solo cups, The San Francisco 49ers, Toto (Wizard of Oz reference), Uggs and Volvo S60.

Dedication

This first novel is dedicated to my younger sister. I couldn’t have done this without her support. Thank you for dealing with an always full email inbox, text after text of me letting you know a new chapter was ready for you to read, edit and scrutinize, and the endless phone calls where you listened to me work out the storyline. I will always be grateful to you for introducing me to the world of books and inspiring me to write my own. For you,

I love you always.

Chapter 1: Regan

College

My first day of college and I’m already late for class. Of course, I pick today to ignore my cell phone alarm—F.M.L.

After rushing to get out of bed, throwing on my planned outfit, brushing my hair and teeth and grabbing my books, I finally stumble out of my dorm. The temperature is surprisingly nice for an early September day and most likely a result of the cloud cover.

Please don’t rain on my already bad morning, I muttered to myself.

I have no idea where I’m going, I thought.

This campus is huge, everyone is already in class and I’m completely lost. I tried to find time earlier to scope out where my classes are, but I hadn’t anticipated moving in taking so long. I guess that’s what happens when you have no family to help you cart boxes back and forth like all the other freshman had. Finally, Duncan Hall appears in front of me as I round the corner from the church that has amazing stained glass windows. One window held the image of an angel with tears streaming down his face with hands raised to Heaven. It mesmerized me. How could an angel so beautiful not be in Heaven where he belonged? With my mind wandering, I make my way to my introduction to psychology class on the second floor, where I am met warmly by my professor.

Ah, you must be Ms. Edison, Dr. Grayson stated with a grin on his face.

Isn’t the point of going to a big school getting lost in the numbers? Of course I would sign up for one of the only classes on campus where the professor actually takes attendance. The man looked old enough to be one of the founding fathers of psychology.

I suggest, Ms. Edison that you leave and only return to class when you are serious about your collegiate career, he continued.

I felt my brows raise rebellion as a smart remark was about to roll off my tongue, I caught the look of anticipation on his face that told me that he was hoping I would talk back.

Yes, sir, I said more out of fear than respect for my elder, my annoyance clipping my words.

He wanted to have his little power trip today, fine. As much as I instinctually wanted to defend myself, I let his self-entitled attitude roll of my shoulders, turned on my heel and walked out of the room with my head held high.

Such a great start, to an already promising first day! Did this really happen in college?

I remembering laughing at Reese Witherspoon in Legally Blonde when she got kicked out of class on her first day for not being prepared, suddenly it wasn’t so funny.

This is my first year at Georgia Liberty College, the furthest college from my mother and ‘absent from my life altogether’ father. In fact, I never even knew my father.

Mom said he stuck around for a little while after I was born and then one morning she woke up to a note that said ‘I just can’t’. How pathetic! I suppose my mother’s emotional detachment stems from that, so it’s hard to blame her. Needless to say, I grew up pretty quickly and learned at an early age how to take care of myself. Really though, I’m proud to be so independent.

While all of my friends back home cried at the prospect of getting older and venturing out into the world on their own, I invited it.

California wasn’t all the glitz and glam it’s made out to be. I hated the small town of Petaluma, surrounded by suburbs and foreign cars. Neighbors hated one another, wannabe stars and fake agents littered the town and wildfires ran rapid. Petaluma was just on the outskirts of San Francisco, but I never went. If the inevitable traffic jam wasn’t enough to scare you away from the city, then the ever present tourists would. I attended North Ocean High School in Petaluma, where there were so many students that after four years, the teachers still didn’t know my name, nor did they care. Obviously that was not the case here.

Georgia Liberty’s main appeal was location, but was also an extremely large campus where I wouldn’t know a single person. That was perfection in my mind. I loved the idea of a fresh start and knowing that these would be the best four years of my life. I looked forward to making best friends with people that actually cared about me rather than those from back home who were only friends with me out of convenience.

The campus was full of greenery, gorgeous stone architecture, and friendly, smiling people with hick accents. Brick pathways outlined the college and enclosed green quads already filled with people throwing Frisbees, girls laying out on blankets, and couples strolling hand in hand. This place was such a culture shock.

I mean really, who says ‘Y’all’ and asks ‘have you ever had pickled eggs?’ Southerners!

A light breeze rolls across campus making it one of those perfect fall days. I watch as a girl I pass laughs loudly while her boyfriend playfully scoops her up into his arms, easily picking the Frisbee out of her hands. I feel the smile spread on my face and I am surprised by my own reaction. I usually feel annoyance at seeing couples PDA, but now I feet hope that maybe I could find something real here that would allow me to be one of those giggling girls. I stroll slowly through grounds with hopeful fluttering in my chest at all of the opportunities I have here.

I only recently met my roommate, Alyson, for the first time two days ago. She has short, straight blond hair and was rail thin. She was the complete opposite of me. I had long past my shoulders, naturally curly brown hair, and ironically unlike Alyson’s typical California body type, I had curves. I’m about 5’7 with a small waist and thanks to my mother, nice hips and decent chest size. I liked my roommate already. Alyson told me she only attended Georgia Liberty because it was the only college both her and her boyfriend got into.

I was all for making friends, but I was a little worried about jumping right in with a roommate. What if she was annoying? I’m glad she wouldn’t be around a lot, because then maybe I wouldn’t get peeved at her little quirks like most roommates do.

Think of it as having a single hon, Alyson told me in a thick country accent.

She planned on moving in with her boyfriend and the dorm was only a front for her parents. Sounds like something I would do just to piss off my lone parental.

Don’t worry, we can still be besties. I have lived in Georgia all my life and know most the people at this school. I’ll take you to all the local hang outs and all the best frat parties. You’ll be a Southern belle yet. Oh, and my boyfriend has lots of friends for you to meet, she drawled in a country accent with a wink, which I had to admit, was growing on me.

Awesome, exactly what I wanted, my very own Rhett Butler to play my Scarlett O’Hara, all Gone with the Wind like.

Thanks, I could use a friend in a new state. The campus is totally confusing and Georgia is completely different from California, I said to be polite, smiling despite myself.

We picked our sides of the room and divided up the dorm furniture. Moving all of our things in, we listened to, you guessed it, country music. Way over my head, but I indulged my new roommate. Alyson packed a few things, cowboy boots, flannel button-ups, and Levi jeans. She really seemed like the typical Southern girl. We exchanged numbers and I haven’t seen her since. I think Alyson and I will be great friends, I’ll have my independence, she’ll have her boyfriend and we’ll party on the weekends together. What’s the old saying, opposites attract? The statement couldn’t be truer for Alyson and me.

In picking my classes I decided to spread them out over the course of the week. I would much rather go to class for a few hours every day and then have my afternoons free. After the first day of class, or lack thereof in the case of my psych class, I already felt behind, so I decided to hit the library on campus.

Call it the classic romantic in me, but I’ve always loved the library. Georgia Liberty’s was four stories tall and had several different themed rooms where people could study at various noise levels ranging from silent rooms to quiet rooms to group study areas. The one I set up camp in seemed to be styled after Belle’s library in Beauty and the Best. There were several ladders lining shelves that ran from floor to ceiling outlining the room. I sat in an overstuffed leather chair and took in the scent of the books and coffee. Not surprisingly, the library was empty. I guess only students who miss their first day have to hit the books on the first day of classes. I could certainly see myself getting a lot of work done here. That is if the books that line the walls do not cause me too much distraction. I glanced over my syllabuses and wanted to cry looking at the hundreds of textbook pages I will need to read this week. I pulled my iPod out and went into my focused mode. As the flash cards piled up I glanced at my watch and was surprised to see how late it had gotten while I was lost in pages of psychological theories, evolutionary biology, mathematical limits and cultures and genders for sociology. As I packed up my things I glanced around again wondering if I would grow to resent this place the more hours I was forced to spend in it with my heavy course load.

Reflecting on the work I accomplished I smiled smugly, I am serious about my collegiate career thank you very much, Dr. Grayson!

I was rushing out of the library, hands full of books when I crashed right into someone.

Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been in such a hurry, I’m Regan by the way, I said with a smile trying to fight the growing heat spreading across my cheeks at my own clumsiness.

The girl that stood before me had on a deep purple off the shoulder blouse and a pair of khaki short shorts. She had long, straight red hair, pale skin and legs that went on for miles. She was also wearing a scowl.

Why don’t you watch where you’re going next time? she said, flipping my books out of my hand and then sauntered off down the hall

Wow, got to love Georgia, so much for that Southern hospitality.

Shrugging her comment off, I felt thoroughly productive and decided to grab some dinner and head back to my dorm. Surprise, surprise, my food wasn’t that great and I began to understand why college students say they miss their momma’s home cooking. Not that I would ever call my mother momma or like she would ever take the time to cook me a meal, but still I got the idea. My dorm was strategically located furthest from the center of campus and shadowed in darkness, thanks to the lack of street lights. I wasn’t scared though, it’s Georgia. What could happen in a small Southern state like Georgia, right?

Wait, shit! Why did Alyson make me listen to country when we unpacked? Wasn’t there a song called ‘Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia’?

As I made my way back to my dorm, my imagination started to run wild. There were only a few cars parked on the street, including an oversized, squeaky clean black SUV that looked completely out of place amongst all the jacked-up Chevys and Fords covered in mud. As the wind blew, goose-bumps popped up and covered my arms. I glanced over my shoulder to ensure I wasn’t being followed. I stumbled over my own feet, but righted myself before I fell flat on my face. I should have thought to get some pepper spray.

Throughout fall orientation every safety meeting we had with our RAs and the campus police told us girls, not to go walking around campus late at night, on our own. I had laughed to myself thinking this isn’t New York City. The speakers had mentioned a couple of muggings, but nothing of great severity so I had basically ignored the rest of their lecturing. Maybe that wasn’t the best idea. The campus is pretty spread out and various parts can be described as desolate.

I tried to take a deep breath, but my attention was drawn again to the black SUV. This made me nervous, so I kept checking over my shoulder, you know, just in case. The SUV however wasn’t getting any smaller as I walked further away from it. The lights were off on the SUV and there were no occupants in the vehicle.

It’s only your first day of college and you’re already losing your mind, I whispered to myself.

It was then I heard the screeching tires and smelled the burning rubber. I didn’t even have time to react. A scream stuck in my throat as the black SUV barreled onto the sidewalk, blocking my path back to the dorm and almost hitting me. I stared blankly with the scream still held in my throat. That didn’t seem like an accident, it seemed very intentional! I was almost hit by this car, my mind raced. Instinctively, I turned to run and was met with a thud as I collided into the chest of a very tall, built man. As my eyes traveled up the length of the man’s body, I stared directly into dark, nearly black, resonating eyes. The man wore black, patent leather loafers, black Dockers and a black polo shirt. If I wasn’t literally shaking uncontrollably, I would have thought how original his black ensemble was for a midnight meeting with a college co-ed.

Regan Edison? the hollow eyed man questioned me.

I barely managed a whisper, yes, that’s me.

I answered hoping beyond belief that this was some freshmen initiation for Georgia Liberty College that I was unaware of.

I debated the options in my head. Random men do not come up to you on the street in the middle of the night to say ‘hi’ after almost flattening you with their car. One of the more appealing options entailed running, running as fast as I could to get away from this man. I don’t know the area though and could end up in an even more isolated area than I began. I suppose getting lost was preferable to dying. Making my decision, my body tensed as I prepared myself to sprint. My heart pounded so loudly, I thought he might be able to hear it.

My hope quickly deflated as two more men stepped out of the black SUV, the driver and a passenger, dressed in black combat gear and boots. As they moved up behind me, I knew this was bad. I could scream, but I was on the edge of campus too far from my dorm for anyone to hear. So, naturally, I did the only thing I could think of. I kicked the hollow eyed man right between the legs as hard as I could and took off running.

The man doubled over, but continued to reach out for me as I tried to run away from him. He caught the hem of my favorite button up collared shirt that I had thoughtfully chosen to wear for my first day as a college student. I heard the shirt rip and buttons fall to the ground as I struggled to get out of his grasp. I made it maybe two steps before I was brutally pummeled to the ground and thrown to my back.

That would definitely leave a bruise. What is happening right now? Is this a dream?

My body throbbed from the impact, my heart was still racing, and tears sprung to my eyes. I don’t know if they were from the pain of my fall or from my overwhelming fear. It was lackey number one from the SUV that straddled me, successfully pinning my legs to the ground. It only took one hand to trap my wrists in his manacle like vice.

Get the hell off me! I screamed in his face with horrific thoughts of all of those Law

and Order episodes I had seen bouncing through my head.

In a lame attempt to escape, I tried bucking him off me. No luck. He barely even needed to re-adjust, his weight was too much. I realized then, that I could barely breathe and the thought occurred to me that I really was going to die. These men were going to do God knows what to me and there was nothing I could do about it. I looked for any sign of help, my eyes flickering wildly and hopelessly for any hope of a savior. I saw no one, no passing cars, and I felt my blood run cold as I started feeling completely helpless.

The fighter in me screamed and called out for anyone that could hear me.

Somebody help me!

My outcry was met with a sharp, stinging across my face, where the jerk used his free hand to slap me across the cheek, hard.

Julia Roberts had it right in Pretty Woman, I thought. Guys do know right where to hit a girl.

He drew a knife from a holster near his right ankle. The shaking of my body turned to trembling as I openly sobbed. I continued to weakly struggle beneath him as I quietly begged for him not to hurt him.

This couldn’t be it, right?

Call out again girl, and it will be your last, he warned through gritted teeth as he held the knife to my throat hard enough to break skin.

I felt the warm liquid on my neck from where the knife was digging in. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Why me? All I could think was this is it, I was going to be the victim of some senseless crime all because I had to go to school clear across the country in sweet, innocent little Georgia.

I was in trouble, real life threatening danger and had no hope of being saved.

The tears continued to flow down my face. With my hope rapidly falling, I thought about my life, my mother, my lack of a father. That’s what you are supposed to do in these moments right? I felt nothing, no attachment to the past, but I cried for the lost opportunity that was my future.

It was instantly after that thought, I felt the weight of the person pinning me down lifted off of me and I heard a deep growl come out of the darkness.

I saw the figure of a man and then I heard his only comment to my attacker, big mistake, Exile!

I felt the air leave my chest with a whoosh as the pressure left my chest. The fighter in me sprang to life immediately and I quickly got to my feet so that I could make my getaway, but I was frozen in place. The man that threatened my life was pinned under another sizeable man. Rather than sprinting away, I stayed rooted in place, taking in the scene. My eyes racked over the man’s beautiful features. The attacker’s face was being pounded by the guy’s fist again and again until he was knocked unconscious and bleeding. Even then, this man didn’t stop hitting him until he got a few more punches in. How was it, that I was viciously attacked, almost died and still could at this point, but all I could think was how amazing it would be to be pinned under this striking man and have his hands all over my body, leaving no place untouched. I must be a teenage girl with hormones running rampant.

What is wrong with you? I thought to myself. Is this how people think after near death experiences? Am I in shock?

Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought when I was tackled to the ground. Maybe this is the starting effects of post-traumatic stress disorder. I had torn my eyes from the man to try to collect my thoughts. When I looked up, I only saw the guy that saved me. My attacker had disappeared. Did he get away?

Finding that my attacker was safely not in range and no immediate danger threatening my life, I took the time to examine the savior before me.

The guy looked older than me. He was over six feet tall and had dark hair that fell across his face. He wore dark blue jeans and a fitted black V-neck t-shirt that clearly showcased the outline of his chiseled chest. I could see the hard line of his jaw and square chin from here, his nose sloped perfectly between two masculine cheekbones.

In my state of awe, I almost didn’t notice the new additions to the group. Two boys around my age were tag teaming the other man who was providing backup for my attacker. One, wearing a plaid button up shirt and rugged blue jeans, held the guy’s arms locked behind his back, while the other, clad in a John Deere t-shirt, punched him repeatedly in the stomach and face.

A third was attempting to handle the original tall, dark and scary. It looked as though his attempts were to no avail. With each swift punch thrown, the dark man would block or dodge it with ease and return it tenfold. One last punch from my original assailant sent the third man to the ground kicking up gravel as he sailed across the pavement, giving the man time to get to the SUV and peel out. The third guy lay still on the ground for what seemed like a good five minutes, before finally getting up and brushing off his slacks and white button up outfit. He wiped the trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand before acknowledging me.

They must be students I guessed and if not still in shock, I would have smiled. In my fear I didn’t notice them approaching. I’m sure they were walking home from the library just like me. But, some of them looked older, too old to be wandering randomly around a college campus in the middle of the night. Maybe they were police officers, in street clothes?

Where did the other assailant go? He was just there getting the shit beat out of him and now he is nowhere to be found. How were they getting away from these other guys? And why weren’t they going after them?

The group of men assembled in front of me were all good-looking. They could have easily been from California and in the middle of shooting a scene from the newest blockbuster action movie, but oh no. We weren’t in California and we weren’t in Kansas either Toto. We were in Georgia and things like that didn’t happen here. The most eventful things that happened in Georgia were mudding in Chevy trucks, hunting and fishing or taking some back road with your significant other, according to my very own Southern expert, Alyson.

This wasn’t the slow-paced life I expected. My heart was still beating on over-drive and I wiped the tears off my face. Every muscle in my body ached, maybe from being roughed up or maybe because I hadn’t relaxed a muscle since all of this started.

Once the two that emerged from the SUV had run off, the group of men that came to my rescue stood, out of breath and looking towards my savior for direction. I too looked in his direction, as if waiting for his command to react. Are these guys here to help me? They seemed to be, but then again I now knew better than to think everything that looks safe is. In my paranoia and shock from surviving the attack I suffered moments ago, I kept thinking the next command would