Breakable: Tainted, #1

By E.P. van Wyk

Evelyn escaped death after she witnessed something horrible. She disappeared with a new identity and perilous secrets. Her past couldn't find her...

Or could it?

Five years ago, she abandoned a life that left her battered and terrified. She vowed to never trust anyone again but Mason awakened her deepest carnal desires with just a touch. He became her addiction.

Mason lived by rules that he didn't set for himself. He never expected to find a woman that captivated him until he was in the right place at the right time.

With dangerous secrets and growing desires can they find love or are they both controlled by their secrets and past horrors?

Find out in this erotic crime romance, what's in store for Evelyn and Mason.

• Language: English
• Publisher: E.P. van Wyk
• Release date: Jul 10, 2018
• ISBN: 9780620802079

E.P. van Wyk

Newly self-published South African author of Breakable - Book one of the Tainted series. Her favorite character is the Joker played by Heath Ledger and loves the colors black, red and purple. She enjoys reading, writing and spending time with her loved ones. She's comfortable to stay in the background than to be the center of attention. If she isn't typing on a keyboard, she's catching bugs with her toddler or collecting and admiring their growing action figure collection with her husband. The one man that's been the rock in her world and her biggest supporter since 2008.

Book preview

Prologue

Evelyn

The alarming urge to escape from danger or the heat that felt as if I’m baking in an oven, pulled me from a disturbing darkness. But as I became conscious, for a moment I wished for death just to relieve the agonizing pain I felt. My head pounded against my skull, I desperately wanted to claw the pain from my head but my entire body refused to move. My left hand twitched and searing pain jolted up my arm. I cried out but only coarse sounds escaped my throat. My left arm felt as if it was on fire whenever I tried to move it. Inhaling also proved to be difficult; each breath I took lead to a stab to my ribcage. The left side of my body throbbed with intense pain, and it felt like what I imagined hell would feel like. I focused on opening my eyes, but they felt wet and sticky. I blinked rapidly to get them open but could only see darkness. Am I blind? I shifted my right arm, relieved that it wasn’t in any excruciating pain, and rubbed at my eyes. Slowly, my focus returned. My hand was covered in dark, sticky blood. I tilted my head towards a moving light. It was an enormous bright fire; the car was shrouded in flames. I was about fourteen feet away from the fire but the heat emanating from it accurately resembled an inferno. I pressed my right palm flat on the tar road, and gradually applied pressure as I tried to raise myself up from the road. Since I didn’t experience any sudden pain, I pushed further and lifted myself awkwardly from the ground and wobbled on to my feet. Swaying and dizzy, I stumbled away from the fire. My left arm dangled limply at my side, pain pulsed in my arm as it swayed. My body started to tremble, and I felt disoriented. So I paused to regain a bit of control over my body. A sharp stinging throb from my abdomen reminded me of the open knife wound. Blood seeped from the wound above my navel underneath my bloodstained shirt. I’m bleeding to death. I’m going to die.

I pressed the wound with my left hand, applying what little pressure I could, my strength was dissipating quickly. My knees buckled, and my vision went from blinding white to black. I buckled again, sinking to my knees, and I cried out again when an agonizing pain shot through me. The sounds resembled that of a howling wolf. I was drained, my eyes kept fluttering closed. Kneeling in the middle of the road, staring into complete darkness, the fire from behind me caused my shadow to dance in front of me, mocking me for thinking I could get away from him. I accepted my fate, the last bit of strength I had left drained completely, leaving me bereft, defeated. I stared ahead ready to join the impending darkness, but then I saw two bright lights. My swaying upper body gave up its fight to stay upright, and I collapsed onto my left side. The pain didn’t register anymore as I made contact with the tar. My eyelids dipped, and I managed to take one final glimpse of the world I was leaving behind. It focused on a figure moving rapidly towards me with a blinding light behind it. Then I heard a far off voice roaring, Call 911! She's losing— I plummeted into darkness.

---

A rhythmic beep broke through the never-ending darkness that I’d been running around in, trying to find a light. My body throbbed in pain that I’d never knew existed. It was so intense that I wanted to return to the never-ending darkness just to be free from all the pain, but deep down I knew this was the only way to find the light I desperately sought. My eyes felt heavy, I managed to open them with difficulty, but shut them again. A sharp white glow blinded me, and when I slowly I opened them again, it was all a blur. Something was stuck in my throat, and I couldn’t swallow. Panic settled, and I desperately tried to lift my arm to yank the thing out of my mouth. My limbs felt foreign, detached and not cooperating with what I wanted them to do. Pain shot through me, and my left hand landed on a tube, my fingers curled around it and the object in my throat shifted a little. Realizing the tube was attached to the object in my throat, I pulled and my throat burned as the object slowly slipped out. As soon as it fell from my lips, I coughed.

Bloody hell it hurt. My arm limply dangled from the bed, my body too tired to do more. A dark fog started to settle over me as I panted for air, and voices penetrated my ears.

Calm down, the baby is okay, a voice said. The words drifted through my head like a foggy cloud, and I couldn’t comprehend what the words meant. What baby? I felt too exhausted to concentrate. I surrendered to the darkness, and the pain faded taking the light with it.

Chapter 1

Five years later…

You know those movie trailers we’re all excited to see before the actual movie gets premiered, a two minute glimpse of what’s to come of a 120 minute movie? Well, my life certainly felt like a two minute trailer, showing the best bits of what seemed to be a great life, and shocking me with what I never expected. I was deluded with my life’s trailer, thinking I finally had a good thing going. Only my life didn't have a happy ending like most movies. My haunting nightmares, once again became my reality. I wasn't enough to fight my monster, the shit just had to destroy everything I loved and forced me to push away what I still had left. He enjoyed my misery and made sure I had nothing left, I still had one big secret that no one knew about and do anything to keep it that way. Oh had I wished it was only a bad movie or even a bad dream, but it was my harsh reality which I had to accept. We had a couple of rough nights out clubbing, and decided to stay in because it's my little sister, Abby’s, last night before she went back home.

So, we decided a movie marathon night was in order to end her visit. Ever since I moved to New York five years ago, I was afraid to reconnect with my family. I felt horrible and I was scared to death that they would be in danger, but Matt finally convinced me three years ago to reach out to them, and I started to take control of my life. Abby visited often and I visited my grandparents whenever I could. Slowly, we’d mended our broken bond. My phone vibrated on the coffee table, and Abby bent forward from the other side of the couch to glance at the flickering screen. She peered at me, one brow raised. It's a restricted number, you wanna get it?

Nah, let it go to voicemail.

I'm off to bed, otherwise I won’t get up. Abby yawned and stretched her arms above her head before she got up from the couch. I should also go to bed, it’s already past twelve. I sighed, and stretched my legs out in front of me. Thanks for staying a while after your interview, Bugs. I'm positive you'll get the job, I said confidently. My little sister takes after our father, smart, determined and hardworking. Along with our father’s blue eyes, and blonde hair, she’d be the perfect lawyer one day. Well, that’s what my grandparents always say.

Our parents died when I was seven, and my sister was three years old. I remember them, but my memories are clouded with the night that they died. That’s the most prominent memory I clearly remembered to this day. If they were still alive, my life would’ve turned out with far fewer regrets and pain than what I lived with today. But those were my burdens to carry, and I couldn't bare it if my family knew exactly what happened to me. I’d put them through enough pain and worry.

I hope so. It'd be great to be closer to you, she replied sleepily. Well, good night...Ev. Love you. Every time Abby said my name, I could see the burning questions in her eyes. Would I ever be strong enough to give my family the whole reason as to why I changed my name? She gave me a peck on the forehead, and then headed to her room. Good night, Bugs, love you too, I called while switching off the TV and picked up my phone.

After checking that the door was locked and the lights switched off, I headed to my room, placed my phone on the night stand, and entered the bathroom to get ready for bed. Once I'd settled into bed, I listened to the voicemail left on my phone. It was just another random caller that dialed the wrong number. The person didn’t talk but hung up as soon as it switched over to voicemail. Come to think of it, I received a lot of them lately. I opened the bedside drawer, took a sleeping pill, and swallowed it down with the remaining water left on my bedside table.

I didn’t want another nightmare while Abby’s here and I needed the rest. In an attempt to fall asleep, I stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to my ceiling. They were a gift from Matt that seemed to help me focus on something to fall asleep. The sleeping pill started to kick in and I drifted into a nightmare.

No…

Don’t go, Daddy…

Mommy!!   

I woke up with a jolt, disoriented and soaked in sweat. The vivid memory of that frightening night, left the smell of smoke stuck in my nostrils, and the blazing heat from the fire caused my body to overheat. Struggling to catch my breath, I switched on the bedside lamp, and the room filled with a soft yellow glow. Panting for air, I glanced at the clock next to the lamp. 2:36 a.m. Ever since that awful night five years ago, I have nightmares of my parent’s death, that happened twenty-one years ago. And as if that wasn’t enough torture, I had nightmares about him too. Bile rushed up my throat, and I scrambled out of bed barely able to stand on my feet. I made my way to the toilet and threw up. Gathering myself, I stumbled to the shower, stripped my soaking nightwear, and stood under the cool water that streamed down on me, washing the horrible nightmare and fear down the drain.

---

The repeating buzz from my alarm announced it was 5:45 a.m. I rolled over and silenced it. As I ran my hands over my face, I contemplated going back to sleep. It was just a sleep deprived fantasy, but my reality got me out of bed, and headed for the bathroom. If Mr. Harris wasn’t away acquiring new art for the gallery, I would’ve considered staying in bed all day. But being his assistant, and the only person he trusted to run the gallery when he was away, I’d have to suck it up, especially today. Mr. Harris sent a couple of paintings from Italy, and they arrived yesterday, just before closing time. One in particular was an extremely valuable piece from Johanna Vergouwe, and the buyer eagerly wanted to see it today.

I wasn’t particularly into art, but it was a job I learned to love, with the added bonus that my boss and his wife were like family to me. For three-and-half years, they filled the longing in my heart, to experience the love of parents. I snapped out of my reverie and finished brushing my teeth, applied body lotion, then dressed in a black pencil skirt with a white button-down collared shirt and black pumps. My long, black dyed hair was up in a bun and I applied a little makeup to finish the look. Abby was busy making our coffee, her beautiful, wavy blonde hair tied neatly in a ponytail, swaying as she moved around the kitchen, her petite frame already dressed for the flight back home today—blue jeans and a white knitted jersey.

Morning, Bugs. Sleep well? I greeted, and stood by the kitchen island

Morning, Ev. Yeah like a baby. You? She joined me and handed me my coffee, I took it gratefully.

I'm exhausted. The boogeyman paid me a visit again. I took a welcome sip of coffee, the caffeine my only hope to get through the day.

You still have those bad nightmares? Ev, I’m worried about you… she hesitated, she knew I didn’t like people fussing over me, but she’d heard my panicked screams before and had to pull me from a nightmare once. She knew I had them regularly, but she didn’t know what they were about. She continued hastily, At least it’s Friday, got any plans for the weekend? Oh, and the taxi will pick me up at 10:15 a.m., I'll leave the extra set of keys at the reception desk, she stated with a soft tone, but her blue eyes still seem worried. 

You don't have to worry about me, I'm fine, Bugs. They’re not as bad as they used to be, I lied, they were getting worse. I just didn’t want her to worry.

I’m planning to stay in, maybe invite Matt over. I shrugged and gave her my well-practiced 'I'm fine’ smile. It worked.

I had a blast this week. Call me when you're home, okay?

Yeah, it was amazing, take care of yourself. I’ll call as soon as I'm home.

I glanced at my wristwatch, and realized I had to leave for work.

I have to get going, say hi to Nana and Papa.

Abby had been staying with our grandparents in Cleveland, Ohio, and visited me in New York often for the last three years. We lived with them since our parents died. This visit was different though, she had a couple of job interviews as a PA with different law firms in Manhattan. Hopefully, the second time she returned it would be a permanent stay. Will do, love you, bye, she said as I grabbed my set of keys and purse. Before shutting the door, I smiled at her. Thanks, love you too, bye. I waved and pulled the door shut behind me. I caught the elevator and swooped in before the doors closed.

As the elevator went down, I got my phone out and texted Matt, asking if he was free for lunch then placed the phone back in my purse and waited as the elevator descended. The elevator came to a halt with a ping and the doors opened. I stepped out and gave Sam, the front desk receptionist, a tight smile as I marched for the doors. Even though he was friendly, and hadn’t done anything to make me feel threatened, I just didn’t want to start any conversations with him or any other man. But ever since I moved into this building, the man just didn’t get the hint. I didn’t get along with men, not to mention other women. His eyes followed me everywhere and it made me jittery, I didn’t like being watched. I was a lot more comfortable not having any attention on me. I flagged down a cab as I got outside and jumped in. My phone started ringing just as I arrived at the Bowman Art Gallery. Hastily, I scrambled for my phone as I got out of the cab. I glanced at the screen, my mouth curved into a warm smile.

Hey, Matt. I paid the cabbie and turned around as he drove off.

Hey, Ev, I got your text. I might not be able to make it. I'll text you later to let you know.

Oh, okay, sure, no problem. If you can't then we will see each other tomorrow night at the club?

Great, yeah, that will actually work better…shit, I've got to go, Ev. See you tomorrow night then. Bye

Okay, bye.

Matt owns his own club, Panthers. We met five years ago in the Lancaster General Hospital, and he helped me get my life back together. I worked for him until I found the position at the gallery. When we came to New York together, we became great friends. We never tried to be more than just friends. He helped me through a very difficult time when I felt alone. Eventually, I trusted him enough to tell him everything. He’s the only person who knew what happened and what Bryce did.

From the moment we met, he became protective of me, kind of like a big brother, but also a man I loved hanging out with and the only one I trust. I would forever be grateful that he came into my life when he did. If he hadn’t found me on the road that day, I would've been dead.

---

As I scrambled for the keys to unlock the gallery, my purse slipped from my hand and fell to the ground, the contents scattered around me. Shit! This is not what I need right now! I hissed. Cursing under my breath, I crouched down and picked up my stuff.

Need any help with that? A deep male voice asked from behind me. I jumped, the unexpected voice almost knocking me off balance. I looked over my shoulder. Oh, no, thank you, I’ve— words died on my lips as I looked up. I stared into the most captivating graphite-gray eyes I'd ever seen, eyes that could probably see deeper and demand all of your attention. Breaking eye contact, my eyes trailed over the rest of him. He had dark brown hair in a slicked back side-part hairstyle, oval shaped face, and medium-thick eyebrows with curved ends, straight nose that wasn’t too long. Square jawline covered in an almost-black short, trimmed beard that stopped midway up his cheek and connected evenly with the mustache line, his neck neatly shaved clean. Average lips curved into a polite smile. Wearing an expensive black tailor-made suit, crisp white shirt, and a thin royal blue tie, his robust figure hovered over me. 

I was barely able to hold on to some sort of functionality, so I just stayed crouching there, frozen, gawking over my shoulder at him. Mentally slapping myself, I grabbed the last few items and the damn keys, stood and turned towards the man. I made eye contact again, but my limbs felt alien, and I almost dropped the damn purse again. Uhm, thanks for the offer. I've gotten everything. I gave him a tight smile. Heat rushed to my cheeks. Dragging my eyes away from him, I ambled to the gallery door, inserted the key and unlocked it.

It seems you missed this. I peered back at him over my shoulder. He watched me curiously, and held my phone between us as he stepped closer. Oh, thanks. I turned around and took the phone from his hand. Our skin brushed ever so slightly, causing another heat-rush to my cheeks as my eyes snapped to his. Great, I looked like a blushing teenager, talking to an attractive man for the first time. I quickly diverted my eyes down to my phone, checking for any new damage. The thing had a more intimate relationship with the ground than I’d had with a man in a long time. Shaking my head, I slipped it back in my bag and continued to open the Gallery. It’s a pleasure, the man replied from behind me. I could’ve sworn I heard his voice dip slightly when he said, ‘pleasure’.

My skin prickled all over, and I started getting a little nervous. I could feel him staring at me, and boy, did I hate being watched. Just one more gate to open then I’d be safe inside the Gallery. I turned around, and locked my gaze to his. Before I started gawking at the man again, I straightened my spine and kept my tone even. Are you lost? I asked him. His eyes lit up as he chuckled. Did I say something funny? No, not anymore. After he laughed at me, his lips curved into a knee-weakening smile. I stared at his mouth for a beat, wetting my lips with my tongue. His lips beckoned me, and I imagined he tasted sweet, inviting. He cleared his throat and snapped me out of my inappropriate thoughts. Whoa, that never happened before. Okay…good. If you can excuse me, I have to open up, I stated as I turned my focus back to unlocking the safety gate. My cheeks felt hot. I've been celibate for years dammit! Get a damn grip!

No problem, I can wait. He’s still here? I paused, and peered back at him, brows furrowed. Excuse me, who are you? I asked, my voice hostile. Do I still have the pepper spray in my bag? Mason Knight, I'm here for the private viewing of the paintings from Italy, he offered, smiling, a hint of humor in his eyes. My eyes widened. Shit!  Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Knight. I didn't realize you'd be here this early, I was planning on making an appointment with your secretary as soon as I opened the gallery, please come in, I blabbered and gestured for him to come in. I’m such an idiot! As he strolled in, I flipped open the security pad next to the door, and punched in the code to disable the alarm. Flicking the lights on, I rushed behind the reception desk, and dumped my bag in a drawer.

No need to be sorry, I didn't plan on being early either. One of my meetings was cancelled so I have the free time now, if you don't mind? he explained in a calm, friendly tone. I stood frozen behind the reception desk as he held my gaze. I tried to keep my tone even, and polite. It was difficult as hell not to get lost in those graphite-gray pools. It’s no trouble at all, Mr. Knight. Would you like anything to drink? He gave me a small smile. No, I’m fine, thank you, miss…?

Forgive me, I’m Evelyn Pierce. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Knight. Please excuse my tardiness. I composed myself and strolled towards him, offering my hand in an official greeting. A strange tingle rushed through me as he gripped my hand, and I almost yanked it back as the sensation surprised me. Our eyes met and my mouth went dry. It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Miss Pierce. No need to apologize, I’m the one who showed up without an appointment. He did it again, I wasn’t imagining it. His voice definitely dipped again when he said, ‘pleasure’. He squeezed my hand when I tried to pull away.

His eyes kept me bolted in place. The paintings are in the warehouse, I whispered. His pupils dilated as we stared at each other for a beat in silence. My heart pounded against my ribcage, and my palms turned damp. I pulled my hand again, and this time he released me, a broad smile on his face. Perfect. Lead the way, Miss Pierce. I blinked. His touch anchored me in a strange way, like we actually connected. Now, I craved his touch the way I craved more caffeine. This was nuts, he was a client, an extremely important client as Mr. Harris stressed before he left. Besides, he was a wealthy man and wouldn't want to get involved with