Finding Freedom 3: Hallowed Ground: Finding Freedom, #3

By Leslie Laye

Marla's mother is dead. Marla is heartbroken and devastated and only has her budding relationship with Danielle to depend on. That is, until Marla's sister, Katrina, returns after years of being gone. Katrina is stern and severe and looks on none too happy to meet Danielle, as if she figured out what she is.

Danielle's sneaking around grants her a brief respite from the terrors going on in her life, allowing her to finally enjoy Marla the way she wants to. But sneaking around can only give you so much time, and eventually her past catches up to her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thompson-Corner Publications
• Release date: Jul 20, 2015
• ISBN: 9781516390724

Book preview

Finding Freedom 3

Hallowed Ground

by Leslie Laye

A Thompson-Corner Publication

Copyright © 2015 by Leslie Laye

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the brief use of quotations in a book review

Other Finding Freedom Stories

Finding Freedom 1: FlashFire

Finding Freedom 2: Snowfall

Finding Freedom 3: Hallowed Ground

Finding Freedom 4: Winds of Change

Finding Freedom: Full Series

Table of Contents

Finding Freedom: Snowfall

  Chapter 1: Drunk and Disorderly

  Chapter 2: An Old House

  Chapter 3: Hallowed Ground

  Chapter 4: Painful Pasts

  Chapter 5: Blood Splatters

Erotic Lesbian Romance

About Leslie Laye

Finding Freedom: Hallowed Ground

Chapter 1: Drunk and Disorderly

I was drunk.

I could barely see the glass in front of me, my vision was swimming so bad. I fiddled with my phone again, but I couldn't make anything out except for the low battery sign flashing at me.

It was mocking me, I swear.

I wanted to throw it across the bar. I wanted it to shatter into a million itty bitty tiny pieces and then reform again and then break into a billion itty bitty tiny pieces again.

Hey, baby.

And then there was this fuckboy.

I imagined him shattering into three kajillion million little pieces, but I couldn't really see him too clearly. I figured that I frowned at him, but I wasn't actually sure.

Please go away, I meant to say, but I'm sure what I actually said came out in some strange blur.

Hey, you okay, babe? he asked, and put an arm around my shoulder. I didn't want him touching me. It made me feel sick. I leaned away from him, but he followed me.

I wanted him off. Couldn't he tell? He needed to get away from me.

I slid off the bar stool. He followed me again. Now he was steering me towards the front door. I slumped against him. I couldn't keep myself standing, but at the same time, I couldn't stop myself from moving. Everything was shifting dangerously.

Where were we going? I couldn't even tell. We reached the front door. He opened it for me and gestured for me to go through it.

Let's get you home, babe, he said. Home? Whose home?

This was bad, but I couldn't stop myself.

I went through the doorway and collided with someone.

What are you doing?

You can't control me, I meant to say, but I wasn't sure what I actually said.

She moved faster than I could track, which wasn't really that fast at the moment. Something in the vicinity of her arm hit something in the vicinity of his face and he went down. She grabbed me and pushed me up against the wall. Her hands were tight on my arms.

"What are you doing?" she repeated.

I took out my phone and played the message that I'd listened to about two dozen times in the past several hours.

"We regret to inform